


Falling Star

by volcanic_royal



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Season 3 - 8 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volcanic_royal/pseuds/volcanic_royal
Summary: What if people from the future somehow got thrown into Westeros? How bad did the future get? How would they change things? Do they even have a chance to survive in cruel and unforgiving land that makes up GoT?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Original Female Character(s), Jon Snow/Ygritte
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Intro/Part 1/Ch. 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this work will be about an OC of my creation, and her impact on the world of GOT. I will be using mainly the TV show and not the books, less moving parts that way (though still a lot, it is GOT after all). My OC will be inspired from a lot of different sources, like a mix and match of features and some storylines. Such as x-men, hunger games, avatar the last airbender, etc… My OC is going to be from a future version of our own current reality, sort of a sci-fi feel to it. It starts in season 3, and will be changing more in season 6, and season 7 and 8 in particular… considering some fan complaints and hopefully resolving some of them...  
> The story will end up being Jon x OC, but it will be slow burn, and not take away Jon x Ygritte  
> 

No one in King’s landing had ever seen anything like it, like the very stars had come raining towards the ground. People whispered, in fear of whatever god was attacking them would somehow hear their fears and be drawn closer. 

The sky was ripped, and out it streamed what must be flaming rocks, that was the only explanation. The people being punished for the whispered misdeeds.  
Some rocks went far, some straight down, but those were small and did more frightening than damage. The panic rose when this happened, whispers turned to screams, people running to whatever shelter they could find. 

Suddenly, the largest rock they had seen yet erupted from the sky. It was covered in more blue flame then red, and to everyone’s relief, sped away from the city.  
In the Red Keep, Cersei watched. Completely still. She waited until the sky, as suddenly as it was ripped open, returned to its normal state. As if it never was. Her face stern and, if you looked at her eyes, maybe even fearful. Nothing like this has ever been recorded, at least to her knowledge.  
She took a breath and retreated further into the Red Keep.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Tyrion Lannister was in awe at this turn of events. Only days from Stannis’ impending attack, and the very sky decides to rip open. Even after everything was back the way it was before, he stood there in shock. 

What could this mean? Some sort of omen? About the battle? About the King? The state of Westeros? Did the gods finally decide the world was too much of a mess and interfere?

He needed answers, there had to be something about this somewhere. He finally moved from his spot on his balcony, in search of answers. 

He could imagine the reaction of the people of the city. They might take it to be a sign that King Joffrey was truly unfit for the throne. Might take it as a reason to revolt, to just give the city to Stannis. Something needed to be done to quell the rising fear in the city, and fast. 

But, he was getting ahead of himself. Research tonight, advising his nephew on what message to send to the people tomorrow.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The red woman’s eyes followed the flames falling from the sky with delight. Awe on her face, but not a hint of fear. A good omen for the Prince who was Promised, she was sure of it. 

When the last piece of sky went streaking away into the distance though, her smile faded to confusion. It was surrounded in a blue flame; unlike anything she had seen before. It looked like it was surrounding something, the flames not quite touching it. And for once she did not know what these flames could be saying. Something changing the flames… something powerful…

Her eyes followed where this blue flame disappeared and stayed looking in that direction long after it disappeared from sight. Pondering this turn of events with her hear slightly tilted. She finally turned away, taking a few steps closer to the closest torch, looking into it. 

As quick as a flash of lightning, the flame turned blue, then completely extinguished. For the first time in many years, she saw two paths before her, and she was not sure which one was the true path the Lord of Light wanted her to take. 

Footsteps were getting louder, most likely Stannis asked for her immediately following this no doubt magical display in the sky. She looked back the last place the flames disappeared, it looked it be heading straight north.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Robb Stark stood with his men when the falling star came into sight. There were exclamations of surprise, shouts of disbelief and fear. A new weapon from the south to destroy them. Some god had become angry with them. 

Thousands of eyes watched as the thing grew closer, a great cracking sound accompanying it. A great breath was released as it sped over them, illuminating their camp unnaturally. As it sped away though, a greater cracking sound was heard as the flame split into two pieces. One speeding off the same direction, the other falling towards the ground. When the closest piece finally hit there was a long silence, yet even from miles away from where it must have landed, the ground started to shake in the Norther’s camp. Some items could be heard falling, but the impact was far enough that there was no real danger. 

Robb could see Talisa approaching him from the corner of his eye, he turned to see her. She looked as unsettled as the rest of the men around him. She kept glancing towards where it fell from the sky. 

“How far away do you suppose it landed?”

Robb pondered the question awhile. “It went quite far… Could have passed the Twins… I wouldn’t have hit our men.”

“Yes but it could have hit something, a town or, or travelers.”

“Maybe… That doesn’t mean I can afford to go looking. If it hit something, I’ll have word of it soon enough.”

Talisa looked at the ground a moment before nodding. The men around him had been listening in and looked to agree with his statement. She looked back towards where it disappeared, “What could it have been? To make it blue… it didn’t look natural.” She asked quietly. 

Robb looked back as well before answering. 

“I don’t know.”  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The men of the nights watch had seen their fair share of odd things. Inexpiable things even. And heard even more unbelievable stories. Yet if they had not seen with their own eyes, they weren’t sure if they would have believed it. 

Like a commit falling to the ground, encased in blue instead of the red they had seen not long before when a commit passed. And it was flying towards them. It raced above their heads, passing over the wall. Though it didn’t look like it could have been much higher. 

“Maester Aemon!” a night’s watchman called.

He ran up to the man, rapidly explaining what he had just seen. “What could it have been? Have you heard of this happening before?”

“Fallen stars are known to happen, from time to time. Though, cloaked in blue?... And how big exactly would you say it was?”

“Hard to say, maybe as the ships they have out in Eastwatch by the Sea.”

“Curious indeed… No, I can’t say I’ve heard of such a thing happening. Though I can send a raven to the Citadel, someone there may shed some light on all of this.”

The watchman nodded, looking concerned. Others were rushing to get to the top of the wall, to see if they could spot were it would land. Or if the watchers already there saw where it went. 

“Curious…” the maester murmured quietly.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The group of wildlings were making good progress to Mance Rayder’s camp. It wouldn’t be long now until they had their prisoners before the man himself. Jon Snow and Qhorin Halfhand trudged along, bound by ropes. One thinking of how to cause a distraction and get the other to do what needed to be done, the other wondering if he would live even if he were able to. 

With the wind howling, it took awhile before anyone in the group noticed what was coming towards them. It was by chance someone turned around to talk to another and spotted the falling star in the sky. Closer to the ground than any they had seen before in their life. 

“By the gods, look!”

Everyone turned to look at the man who had spoken, only to quickly realize why he had exclaimed in the first place. 

It fell closer towards the ground, making it shake beneath their feet. Yet still it roared over their heads and continued on. The sound was much louder now and made the wind howl even more than before. Some people lost their foot and fell to the ground, others braced themselves as the worst of it passed. 

Almost at once, everyone started to talk, exclaiming in awe at the sight, or in fear. Only the two prisoners were silent. 

“Enough!” the lord of bones finally yelled. “We need to get moving. That thing was falling, going north. It was headed for camp. Now there’s plenty of time to talk while we’re walking, now let’s move!”

“Come on Jon Snow.” Jon turned to look at Ygritte. She pushed him to start walking again, all the while looking troubled.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave constructive criticism! This is my first work of fanfiction so I'm a little nervous. I want to be able to get the characters right in the show, even though I'm throwing a completely, and admittedly, ridiculous scenario at them.  
> If anyone is interested in beta reading please let me know! It will be mainly following my OC, and occasionally separate characters, but only when relating to how the OC changes some things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Verona wakes up in a strange place? What will the wildlings do when they find her?

Mance Rayder stood among his people, crowded together to look in astonishment at what had landed not 300 meters east of their camp. He himself had not seen the thing, but he heard the shouts of his people, and felt the impact, it nearly knocked him off his feet. ‘A star, a star fell from the sky’ he heard his people shout. He thought they were exaggerating, until he had seen the thing himself. 

It was black, some kind of black metal. Nothing like anything he had seen any metalsmith make when he loved south of the wall. He looked about him, ordering the ones closest to accompany him to the crash site. 

“It was surrounded in blue flames, before it crashed down.” Tormund told him. Mance looked about the black metal, no sign of any flames anywhere. It didn’t look like the sort of thing that could burn… 

They approached quickly, following the trail it marked in the ground. It looked like the thing was ripped open on each side, from when it passed the jagged rocks no doubt. He froze suddenly, almost mid-step, his eye catching something unbelievable. The rest slowed, trying to figure out why he had stopped. 

“By the gods…” he whispered.

He could tell when the others saw as well, freezing where they stood. 

Not 20 meters from the gaping hole on the right side in the metal, a person was lying in the snow. Thrown from the thing, it looked like. But the implications couldn’t be believed. 

“It’s not possible…” 

Staking himself into moving, he started towards the shape in the ground, slowly turning into a run. He wasn’t sure if his group was following, his mind on impossible things, like people from the sky. 

He couldn’t believe it. Not even standing above the person. His mind must be playing tricks. 

A girl. A girl who fell from the sky. With unnatural multicolored hair of blue and red. But no, not multicolored, she was bleeding, a nasty head-wound then. He crouched down, taking off his glove and pressed a hand to her neck, then tore a piece off his coat, holding it to her head.

“Get her back to camp, have her head looked at.”

Uneasy silence met his command. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t…” 

Mance’s head shot up to look at the mind who said it. 

“We don’t know what she is! She could be dangerous!”

“She’s injured is what she is!” Tormund interrupted. He knelt down and picked the girl up. “I’ll take her back.” He reassured and left quickly back towards camp.

Mance turned towards the black metal and headed that direction. It was like a room inside. Like a building made of metal had been thrown down from the sky. They found five more people, but all were dead. 

They all wore the same sort of thing, black pants and boots, dark blue jackets that looked like they were once pristine. Multicolored patches on their left breast. Even similar short haircuts. Though no one else had that unnatural colored hair. 

“We should burn the bodies.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tormund carried the girl back to camp, every person he passed staring intently. Everyone probably thinking the same thing… but it couldn’t be. Everyone knew gods didn’t bleed. 

When he finally arrived at the healer’s tent, he went right in and set her down. Val, who was watching him approach, quickly followed inside.  
He finally got a good look at the girl, and what she was wearing. Black pants and boots made of fancy looking leather, with what looked to be armor strapped to them but not in a material he was familiar with. A long-sleeved black shirt with an odd sort of grey vest overtop, made of more odd material, with a high collar and three straps going horizontal, complete with a cape attached to the shoulders that was black on the outside and grey inside. There was some kind of shoulder armor, and a belt that looked like it held a sword at some point. Throughout the whole thing was a swirling pattern of silver lines… It was bizarre looking.

Val was looking at her headwound, which was still bleeding at an alarming pace, and got to work. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verona’s POV:

My head hurts. It really hurts…

I brought my hand up to it on instinct, trying to tell how bad it was. I kept my eyes closed though, why bother to open them anyway… 

What was I doing before this? Nothing came to mind at first… just a big blank. No that wasn’t right. We were flying… back to D.C. Something exploded on the airship, everything shook, must have hit my head on something… there was nothing after that. 

My fingers met my head, it felt like someone had put a bandage there. I groaned a bit; it was really tender.

Someone gasped to the left of me. I jumped, then tried to stand. I was under some blanket, I started to panic a bit. 

“Wait!” some unfamiliar voice called to me, but I didn’t listen. I tried to concentrate past the ache I felt. Just one person close by, but more, a lot more not far. 

I was on my feet now, trying to slow my breathing down. I needed to think. It was probably just a military base, they found where we crashed and brought us to medical… it didn’t smell like medical. And there weren’t buildings, it was a lot of… tents maybe? 

If this were a base, people would be guarding me, I was being taken to a trail after all. Someone would be explaining where I was, they knew how I got about things like this. But the woman in here hadn’t said anything else, she was standing on the opposite side, just standing there. I started to panic again. 

I took a step back, that seemed to make her snap out of it. “You have a head injury. I bandaged it but you probably shouldn’t be moving around yet.”

Yeah no shit I had a head injury. I took another step back, towards the opening of the tent, or whatever this was. I tried to get my breathing under control again, but the panic was starting to overwhelm… I need to get away. 

I turned and started out, I need to move, my heart was hammering, I need to get out of here. 

Wait, snow? I paused outside the tent. What the hell… it wasn’t winter, I wasn’t in any place that should have snow. My head hurt so bad, my hand went up again to hold it. I heard people around me stop, but they didn’t approach. I felt as frozen as this snow on the ground. My heart still beating wildly. 

Someone did approach though… three people, actually. God my head hurt, it made everything too fuzzy. I turned in their direction. “Stay there!” well that just slipped out. I sounded terrible. But they listened, no one moved, but I was still breathing hard. 

_Stop panicking,_ I thought, _you need to stop panicking._

“Where am I?” I managed to hiss out. 

No one said anything, the silence stretched out. Don’t panic, you don’t need to panic. It felt like forever but it was probably only a few seconds. 

“North of the wall.” I heard a man say. The accent was familiar but different in a way I couldn’t describe. 

What the hell did that mean? What wall? The great wall? Was this Mongolia? Siberia? Hell, it could be Scotland or something, there was a wall there, too right?

“Is this Siberia?” Was what I ended up asking. More snow there.

“… Don’t know a Siberia.” How unhelpful. Wait, who hasn’t heard of Siberia? …

“Northern… Canada? The Artic…?” I try. 

“Don’t know those...” My breath starts to quicken again. He wasn’t lying. He really didn’t know. “You’re in Westeros.” 

“What sort of trick is this” I hiss out, “There’s no country called Westeros, what are you trying to pull?! I won’t fall for it… I don’t believe you…” I must be hyperventilating, my head hurts even more, I can’t catch my breath. The voices sound far away now, I can’t tell what they’re saying. Someone takes a step closer to me.

“Stay back!” I wave my arm out, I call to the wind, it answers me. I push them all back, they needed to get away, I need to get away, find out where I really am. My head hurts so badly though… I feel myself slip away…

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mance was thrown back from the girl, he landed with a thud right on his back. The breath knocked out of him. The free folk closest to her where thrown back as well, into the others standing or like him, into the ground. Alarmed sounds echoed in the camp, until one voice rose above them all.

“That’s it! We should kill her now, while we have the chance! We can’t give her the opportunity to do worse!”

“No!” That was Val’s voice. “look around, she didn’t hurt anyone. Didn’t you see? She’s blind!”

Mance got to his feet, starting back towards Val’s tent. Val herself was crouched down next to the girl, it looked like she caught her mid fall. 

“She was terrified, didn’t know where she was, or who we are. Surrounded by people she doesn’t know. How would you feel -” 

“She moved people with her mind!” Another shouted “She’s dangerous!”

“She’s just a girl! She can’t be much older than a teen. She pushed people back but that’s all. Mance!” Val spotted him approaching. “Allow me to keep caring for her, when she wakes again I’ll talk to her. If she should harm anyone, let the blame be on me.” The people around her scoffed in disbelief. Mance couldn’t blame them, he was spooked by this girl himself. 

“Someone with that kind of power… kind of seems like they should be on our side.” Mance turned to look at Tormund, surprised that the man would protect the girl. 

“We all know what we’re facing, she could help us, give us protection.” 

Mance looked back to the girl. He head bandaged, but some blood still visible. Not as much as before, she really shouldn’t have been moving about yet though. Her skin was a tan no one in the North had, she must be from somewhere with more sun. 

That hair… blue like the sky… and a young face, with a scar on her right temple that went into her hair. And she was terrified, he could see it on her face when she turned in his direction, and he could see her fear in clouded wide eyes. 

“We should find out more about her, before making a decision.” He decided. “Val, Tormund, you two will ask her where she’s from, and how she got here. She gives you any reason, any reason, to think she’ll attack, you do what must be done.” Tormund nods his way, Val pauses for awhile but eventually nods as well. 

“Stop your gawking! Give them space, until they’ve decided she’s not a threat. Go on!” The people disperse slowly.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you couldn't tell she has Storm's powers from X-men, but scaled down. And she's blind like Toph is from the Last Airbender. There will be more revealed as time goes on.


	3. Chapter 3

Val thought they were making progress! She had managed to get her to drink some water and was in the process of describing where they were. Tormund had already explained how they found her, and the other people they had found. 

She still hadn’t said anything, but was listening closely, her brows furrowed in concentration. So, she continued, described her people, how they were heading further south soon. She didn’t mention the white walkers though, not yet.

“What’s your name?” Tormund interrupted. It sounded more like a demand… 

She turned in his direction, an odd look on her face. “Verona…” she said quietly, voice scratchy sounding. Val poured more water and set in down in from of her, she drank it quickly. 

“I know this must be… overwhelming” Val began gently “But, you believe us, right? You fell from the sky, in a hollow chunk of metal, and you’re in the far north of a place called Westeros?”

“I know you’re not lying… and we call it an airship.” 

Val looked at Tormund, he looked back at her. This was good, she was telling them things, now to get her to continue. “Oh?” she prompted, still in a gentle voice. 

“There were more people with me… more than five. Can you take me back there? Maybe you just didn’t know where to look…” More people wasn’t good, they could have been turned already. Maybe she should explain.

“Tell us where you’re from first, and we’ll consider it.” 

_Damn it Tormund…_ Val thought with frustration.

“… A country called the United States, on the continent of North America.” 

Well… Val already knew she wasn’t from around here, but to hear it so plainly was still shocking. Tormund stood, promised to be back with a proper coat, and left.  
Verona started at where he left, wrapped in a blanket Val had given her. An awkward silence arose between them. “So um, did you know the people you were with very well?”

“No… I met them a couple days ago I guess.”

“Oh. Well, could you explain what an... airship is then?”

She looked thoughtful, and a bit confused. Like she had never been asked to explain it and didn’t know where to start.

“They’re used for transporting things really, but they can hover in place too, for long periods of time. That’s what made them different than airplanes and jets.”

“That thing was able to float in the air? It made of metal. There’s nothin' I’ve heard of that can fly like that.”  
Verona turns towards her, a curious look on her face. Tormund walked back in before she could ask anything though, an extra coat in hand. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verona’s POV:

I placed my hand on the ship, concentrating on trying to find others, a heartbeat, or someone taking a breath. There was nothing…  
But it was odd, it was too small… I made a fist a knocked against the hull. I could tell a few people jumped. The ones further away watching, and the two closest to her. It wasn’t even half of it… must have broken apart… 

“Thought you were going to look for your people?” The man askes, sounding uneasy.

“I did. There’s no more heartbeats. But this isn’t the whole thing… What direction did it fall from?”

“But are there more bodies, where would they be that we haven’t looked, as you said?”

Its nice, I suppose, that they wanted to bury them as well. Or cremate them, like they did the others they found. I felt a pang in my heart, as I pondered what their names were… they never did say…

“It’s split open, no sealed doors. If there were more, you would have seen them. Which direction did it… did we fall from?”

Someone else was walking closer, I turned my head a bit, but kept my hand on the hull. There was an uneasy silence, and I grew a bit frustrated. It had been awhile since I was around people who were so uncomfortable around me, or people who didn’t understand how my being blind didn’t mean I didn’t know where things (people included) were. Anyway, only five others found, the rest had to be in the other half. I should find them, they would have a better idea of what was going on, one of them had to know what the hell happened. One of them had to know how to get back. 

No one was saying anything. They must be communicating by looks… what jerks. 

Finally, someone spoke again. It sounded like the man from when I first woke up… should probably apologize for pushing them. No one had asked me yet, but I’m sure they’re being so careful around me because of what I did.

“It came from the south. And as it happens, that’s exactly where we’re headed.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon was in the thick of it now. In the middle of a wildling camp, he never would have thought he would be here. He stared after the kids that ran off from him, thinking about the kids back home who were probably in the same situation… it wouldn’t do to linger on those thoughts though. Ygritte and the lord of bones led him to Mance Rayder’s tent. 

There were three men inside, the largest one eating by the fire, and the first to speak… probably the leader then. But there was another there too, also in wildling cloths, with a hood up and turned away from him. 

After foolishly kneeling for the completely wrong person, and being told to stand back up, Jon felt even more nervous. Jon watched silently as Ygritte left. 

“The girl likes you. You like her back Snow? That why you want to join us?” Jon was uncomfortable with the implication. Uncomfortable with the fact that he actually did like her too…

“Don’t panic boy, this isn’t the damn night’s watch where we make you swear off girls.” the redhead supplied.

“This chicken eater here you thought was king is Tormund Giantsbane.” Mance gestured to the redhead.

“Can’t believe this _pup_ killed halfhand…” Tormund added grumbling.

“He was our enemy, and I’m glad he’s dead.” Mance reaches his hand out for Jon to shake. Jon looks down and takes it. Mance stares at him intensely.

“He was my brother once… back when he had a whole hand. What were you doing with him?” He tosses Jon’s hand away. 

“The lord commander sent me to the halfhand for seasoning.”

“Why?”

“He wants me to lead one day”

“But here you are, a traitor. Kneeling for the king beyond the wall.”

“If I’m a traitor, you are too.” Jon points out, causing the two wildlings close to him to look at him intensely, their presents intimidating. 

“Why do you want to join us Jon Snow?” Mance asks after looking him up and down.

“I want to be free.” Jon decided to say.

“No, I don’t think so.” Mance replied, too quickly for Jon to be comfortable. 

“I think what you want to be most of all, is to be a hero. I’ll ask you one last time, why do you want to join us?”

Jon paused before responding. “We stopped at Craster’s keep on the way north. I saw…

“What did you see?”

“I saw Craster take his baby boy into the woods and leave him in the snow. I saw what took him.”

“You telling me you saw one of them?” 

Jon stared intently at Mance, telling him he was serious.

“And why would that make you abandon your brothers?” Mance questioned further. 

“When I told the lord commander, he already knew.” Jon looked right at Mance “Thousands of years ago, the first men battled the white walkers and defeated them. I want to fight for the side that fights for the living. Did I come to the right place?” Jon stared intensely, almost challengingly.

“We’ll need to find you a new cloak.” Mance responded, a small smile on his face as he turned away. 

The others seemed less tense now, backing away from him. The other one he hadn’t looked at though, because they didn’t move, was looking towards him now. He was surprised to see that it was a girl, and not only that, with blue hair that fell over her face, to just passed her nose. Her face obscured mostly, but her he could tell her nose was sharp and slightly upturned, and her eyes pale. Her head was tilted a bit as she looked towards him, but it didn’t look like she was focused on him. 

“Noticed her have you? That’s another thing to talk about. Someone will have told the rest of your little group by now. You noticed the crash marks as you got here Snow?”

“Yes… fortunate it missed you.” Jon supplied, confused about how it related.

“Fortunate.” Tormund sniggered to himself.

“There were people inside. Here’s the only one we found alive.” Mance nodded in the girl’s direction. 

Jon’s head snapped back to her, though she wasn’t looking towards him anymore, she stared blankly at the wall of the tent. Jon struggled to think of anything to say to such a revelation. He had seen the thing in the sky, is certainly looked unnatural, but he never thought a person could be inside it, it was unimaginable. Not only that, but how could someone even survive a fall from the sky?

“We promised her safe passage south, she thinks there are more of her people there.”

Jon was still staring, but she wasn’t looking back at him, she wasn’t even staring at anything really…

“You’re blind?” Jon blurted out. He heard the other sniggering at him and flushed. Then he heard her chuckle quietly and looked back up. She was smiling a bit.

“How rude.” She said dryly “I prefer, _visually challenged_ , if you don’t mind.” she was still smiling so he guessed she was teasing him. The sniggering got louder, and the big redheaded man actually let out a laugh. 

“But how did you survive?”

She shrugged, “I have tough bones, and an even harder head apparently.”

“But, but how – wh-where did you – “ Jon sputtered out.

“Different world, as far as I can tell. Nothing in common but the language, for some reason… which doesn’t make any sense…” She trailed off quietly, but then began again, as if startled back to them. “But there’s something I would like to know, something you neglected to mention.” She said while standing, speaking to Mance this time.

The other two wildlings looked at her, the redhead raised an eyebrow but didn’t appear worried, just curious. Mance turned to face her as well. 

“What took the baby… its something you’re all scared of. I could tell, as soon as it was mentioned, you all reached an understanding quite quickly. So… what are these white walkers?”

Mance let out a sigh and looked towards Tormund, and eyebrow raised in question. 

“Best tell her… better for her to be prepared as we go south.” He huffed out.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were making slow, but steady progress further south. Each night, Jon thought about how he was supposed to get away, to warm the night’s watch. Even with a lot of ground to cover, he felt he was running out of time. Not to mention his now growing feelings for Ygritte, and how she was starting to make him question his own upbringing and morals. And the girl from the sky was another matter entirely. 

She mentioned how there was another part of the ship that brought her here, how there were more people that would be with it. That if she could find then there would be a chance for them to go home somehow. When questioned on how exactly they would do that, she simply answered, _that’s why I need to find the others, I have no idea what happened, much less how to copy it._

The whole situation was almost too strange. 

She was curious about the world though. She didn’t always ask questions, but you could tell she was always listening closely for new information. Tormund seemed to like telling her stories, mostly of his own fierce deeds, and how the wildling way of life went, how they had been fighting for centuries over their rightful land south of the wall. 

Ygritte turned out to like her quite a bit, especially after she had told them that her own country was a democratic nation that chose their own leaders. Ygritte smirked right at him after, as if to say, _see? A whole other world out there and they don’t have any lords or kings._

Learning that _had_ made him uneasy. Perhaps, she would join the wildings in their attack? If she agreed more with how they viewed things. There was something about her, something the others knew that they weren’t telling… but he thought there was something dangerous about her. The fact that she was able to get around so well without seeing was odd enough. Though, it seemed like she had a harder time walking in the snow, he even saw her stumble a few times. But never on more solid ground. 

She wore wildling cloths, but her boots were different. He hadn’t noticed before, but they were smooth black leather, they looked expensive. He wondered what she was wearing when she appeared from the other world. She carried a bag with her, something a wildling named Val gave her. He wondered what was in it sometimes.  
She sought him out, some nights, while everyone was eating. She wanted to know more about the south, more than the others were telling her. It made the wildlings close by uneasy, both at her and at himself, unfortunately. But her explanation seemed innocent enough…

 _If the other half of the ship landed south of even Castle Black, are you just going to send me south without any heads ups? I need to know what to expect at least, surely that’s not asking for too much._

Explaining the way things were to a literal other worlder, was decidedly odd. The lands of the seven kingdoms were easy enough to describe, along with the leading families… the politics were more difficult to explain, but he did his best. He tried to avoid the topic of who rightfully lived where…

One night, she had asked why he was known by Mance already, as a bastard. He had already talked about his family, but not the specifics exactly… it was difficult to explain, some of his bitterness lingering in this voice. He asked if they didn’t have the same attitude where she was from, the answer surprising most everyone close by. 

_Marriage got less and less popular as time went on, it’s an old fashioned thing now. What’s important is making a promise to someone. You can live together or whatever without being married, that includes having children. No one really cares about that anymore._

Even the wildlings had their marriage rituals. Jon wondered if her parents where that way but didn’t find it in himself to ask. The idea was both strange and nice.  
Her accent was odd, her ‘r’ and ‘a’ sounds the most different. She had odd phrases too, she added them so casually so her speech… He heard her say to Tormund that they all spoke like they were from Scotland… 

He could see her approaching the fire he and seven other wildlings sat at tonight, Ygritte and Tormund among them. It was easy to spot her, she stuck out quite a bit with her hood down. He wondered if she would ask anything this time, or just be listening. 

She carried a cup with her and placed it near the fire before finding a seat. That was something else peculiar she did, always letting her drink heat up if she could. When asked about it she said she just liked warm drinks, it wasn’t something everyone did.

“Wanting to hear more stories, girl?” Tormund asked as she sat down. “How about you tell us some from your place first?”

“Oh? What kind of story would you like to hear?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Tell us more about where you were born. Did you have family? Is that why you insist on going to find your others, were they with you?” Ygritte asked her.

“Where I was born huh… It was in the largest city in the States, New York city. Hundreds of building there, so tall we called them skyscrapers. It’s the city that never sleeps, because of all the lights, and noise… Though, I grew up mostly in the capital, I guess. Washington D.C. We moved there when I was… three years old, I turned four later though. There were a lot of museums there, free for everyone to go in. It didn’t have buildings as tall, but they were grand in their own way. More, historic… or something.” She gestured with her hand at the end. 

Everyone looking fascinated. Jon wondered just how tall a building had to be to be called a skyscraper. She went on to describe the capital more, some monuments they had, and the house all the presidents lived in. She had a strange look when she mentioned that.

“I want to find the others because… well, I should try and make sure they’re alright, at the very least. They were taking me back to D.C. after all… I owe them that, at least, don’t I?

“As for family… My parents’ names were Mathew and Melinda Rendell, they got married when I was two. I had one brother. His name was Lucas… they’re gone now.” She finished quietly, sounding resigned. Jon understood that. It wasn’t long ago he learned of his own father’s death.

“I think I’ll just… take a walk before turning in. Excuse me…” They all watched as she picked up her cup and went off. Tormund giving Ygritte a look. “How was I supposed to know?” she hissed under her breath. Maybe because she hasn’t mentioned them the entire time she’s been here. Not even when they were talking about bastards, she hadn’t mentioned she was one too, technically. Most people end up talking about those close to them. Even Jon had mentioned his brothers. Though, Mance Rayder already knew who his family was.

Jon got up to follow her, not really sure what he would say. Maybe talk more about Westeros as a distraction? It didn’t take long to catch up to her. 

“My father, Eddard Stark, was killed, not long ago” Jon found himself saying instead “Executed, accused of being a traitor… my brother Robb decided to march south, but I decided to stay in the north... It was part of the vow I took, I couldn’t leave my brothers. Not when I knew what we were facing.” 

“What a horrible choice to have to make. I’m sorry you ever had to.” Jon turned to Verona, who was looking troubled, well, as far as he could tell with her hair still mostly covering her face. It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear… 

“My brother was only seven years old. They were all killed… all at once. It was a long time ago now, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head like she didn’t have the words. They ended up walking a bit away from camp. She stopped and turned to him. “Their deaths started a war. It was only declared over, the _week before_ I came here.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because, I know war, and I know what it feels like before conflict happens. And I know the free folk and the southerns have some really bad history. Its going to get worse soon, with this _army_ marching south. I’m not an idiot. I don’t want to be forced to take a side. Not when I haven’t even made up my mind about any of you… no offense.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re telling me.”

“You were lying, the first time you told Mance you wanted to join them. You were only half lying the second. _I think,_ that you’re not really one of them. You said yourself you chose to stay north, you must be close with the other… crows.”

Jon tenses immediately, looking to see if anyone was close by. 

“Don’t worry, no one is close by.” She points to her ears “I would know.”

“You said yourself, you haven’t decided on a side. What does that matter to you?” Jon asks carefully.

“It matters, because I’m not sure if they mean to actually let me go when the times comes. I just met these people after all. They’re only telling me what they want me to know. They didn’t tell me about the white walkers till you showed up. It would be nice to know I have someone’s word that they’ll help me leave when I want to. And seeing as you’re not _with them_ with them…” 

He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to give her the reassurance. He didn’t know exactly why they had promised in the first place to help her. He nodded in acceptance and looked at her. She had her arms crossed expectantly. Oh, right…

“Yes” Jon rushed out, embarrassed he had forgotten, when he himself blurted it out at their first meeting. “Yes, I will help you leave, when you decide to, and if they don’t let you.” He continued more slowly. She turned her head to the side, a smirk grew on her face.

“You were nodding, weren’t you?” 

“Yes.” He sighed. She started chuckling under her breath.

“Nice of you, to forget.” She smiled and mocked him gently. He rolled his eyes but gave a small chuckle.

They both turned to make their way back closer to camp. Just before going off to where she was staying, with the wildling healer Val, he thought, she turned to him once more.

“I am sorry, to hear about your father. If he was anything like how you describe… then I know he wasn’t a traitor.”

“Thank you.” He said softly.

She gave a small nod and walked off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The free folk and the sky person are traveling south, still getting to know each other on the way.  
> Verona offers more insight to her world's dynamics, and just what she can do.

Verona’s POV: 

Why, why am I such an idiot. 

I find myself staring upwards, contemplating my own stupidity, at my pride, that led me to this decision. After being told a smaller party was going ahead, of course I wanted to go with them, it was only logical after all. They were going south of the wall, they told her. Yeah okay, I still want to go.

But nooo, I didn’t understand, they were going to climb it. No tunnel through, at least none that they could use. I obviously couldn’t go with them. I remember the awkward silence when I asked why… then of course, I was annoyed. And my pride hurt a bit, not that I wanted them to know that.

So I decided to play it off, pointing out that I didn’t have a problem getting around, if they didn’t notice. No one had to hold my hand to guide me. 

I remember Mance asking just how I was able to do that. What kind of magic I possessed that allowed me to move so confidently, how I could use that to move things with my mind? Which, everyone was very careful about not mentioning. I suppose it had to be asked at some point…

==================================================================================

_  
“Its not seeing but… I can sort of, tell where things are with my… feet? If its connected with the ground, then its clear to me. Not specifics but, well, like impressions of things. The closer something is the clearer it gets. And if I touch something, that’s the most details I’m able to… see…?” I tried to explain._

_Everyone seems to take some time to consider this. Probably trying to picture in their own heads what it must look like._

_“But how?” Tormund asks, sounding confused still._

_How, indeed… how do I explain the experiments done on me. I never had to before. Everyone already knew, I didn’t have to say anything out loud. I don’t know why it  
was so different having to say it, it just was…_

_“After I became blind, I had to learn.” I decided. Which was the truth. I had to learn because they made me._

_“So, you weren’t always blind?” Ygritte asked me._

_“No,” I said wistfully, “not always.”_

_Another pause. They probably wanted to ask how, but I really hoped they didn’t._

_“How –“ Mance started._

_“You think you’d be able to climb?” Jon asked suddenly._

_“Yup.” I responded right away._

_“There’s something else you need to explain, before I let you go with them.” Mance responded sounding annoyed. Moving around some furniture to stand closer to me._

_“When you first woke up, how were you able to throw people with your mind?” He certainly sounded serious. No careful explanation or side stepping this time. I knew it had to asked sometime but still…_

_“It was wind, not my mind. I was scared. I woke up in a strange place, disoriented and confused… I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I only wanted… space.”_

_“Wind? If you control that, what else can you do?”_

_Goddamn asshole. As if I don’t know where this is leading. Same thing everyone wants me to do for them. Which is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. My eyes narrow, and lips tighten._

_“And why do you want to know that? I told you before, I don’t plan on choosing a side. Especially when I don’t think I agree with either one.”_

_“Don’t agree? It’s that simple for you, you don’t agree and will just walk off when you feel like it? We took you in, you’ve gotten to know people here, maybe with your help, less of them will die. Maybe, you’re just a coward.”_

_“If I had known the price for your help would be you demanding me to fight for you, I wouldn’t have accepted. And to put it frankly, both of you have a lot more in common than you’d like to admit or see. You kill each other all the time, and you except me to side with one of you? To fight with one of you? I’m not.” As if I’m a coward for knowing what war costs. One war was enough, I don’t want to get involved in another one._

_“We’re taking you south, that’s worth nothing to you? Tell us, what are you exactly?”_

_The silence was awkward to say the least. If I could just leave now I would, but I’m heading in the same direction, and also I have no idea where to go… no harm explaining some of it. Before I could say anything Mance starts again._

_“I suppose there’s no harm letting you go ahead then… people die all the time climbing the wall, you wouldn’t be our concern any longer anyway. Though, I do ask you tell us the truth before you leave. Consider that your… payment… for allowing you a place here.”_

_Mance sounded tense and unhappy, but his heartbeat was steady at least. And, I suppose it was fair, if the wall was as dangerous as they say. I guess I do owe them for giving me food and shelter. I do owe them for that… I hate feeling guilty. I let out a breath in acceptance and nod._

_“I can control wind, rain, snow, and lightning. I can use them all to create storms, unnaturally powerful and focused storms. It costs a lot though… I can control wind the easiest, but it’s still… it’s difficult for me._

_“I was_ forced _to have this power, by the people that captured me the month before I turned 12. A war had started then… because the president and their family were attacked and killed._

_“The attack started World War Three essentially. No foreign power had attacked a president before, and the year it was… it was the tri-centennial year for our country as well, it was ‘too blatant a provocation’. I was her prisoner for seven years… she called herself the lead doctor. She made me into… a weapon. The last years she used me against my own people…” My throat felt tight, it was getting more difficult to speak. I hated to even admit this part, or think about it, it always led to a downward mental spiral._

_My arms were crossed over my chest… I wonder when that happened. That was answer enough for them, wasn’t it?…_

_“If you have that kind of power, why couldn’t you just… escape?” Ygritte asked me._

_“I didn’t always have it. It was gradual. That and, they had this sort of… helmet. That made me do what they wanted… I couldn’t move without_ her _order. I was a puppet on strings… stuck in my own head” I trailed off, remembering the unpleasant feeling that damned device gave me. I’d been so hopeless for so long. My hands went up to the two spots on either side of my head where they drilled it in._

_“It was in my head. I had to break it to escape.” I traced the scar in my hair to show them, leading out to my right temple._

_I shook my head when I heard someone else about to speak. I don’t want to explain more today. They must have understood because the subject was turned to crossing the wall again. I was told how they managed to do it, in chains of people. Mance told me that as long as I wasn’t a threat, I would be allowed to go on my way… I left quickly after that._

_I spent some time with Val. Explaining that I was going ahead, and thanking her for helping me after I crashed here. I would miss her… she had been kind. I probably never would see… hear here again._

__  
======================================================================================

So now here I am, traveling with the smaller group, not too far from the wall now. Wondering if I’m even going to be able to climb the fucking thing. Why did I feel the need to prove myself? I’ve never climbed anything larger than a tree… and I fell out of those a few times even when I could see. What the hell was I thinking.  


While I’m having my existential crisis, I hear the others getting the fire ready. I had told them a bit more about things, while traveling with them. It was easier not being surrounded by a camp of 100,000 people, it removed some of my uneasiness at least. Jon had told me more about the war going on in the south at that very moment. Or at least as far as he was aware, he had been away a long time now. So many pieces at play, it was unsettlingly familiar…  


Jon and Ygritte were falling for each other. I could hear them flirting, or rather, Ygritte flirting and Jon being embarrassed. It was nice, like star crossed lovers. Both from two fighting sides, finding each other and falling in love. I could tell Ygritte knew the truth though, she wasn’t an idiot. I hope they don’t end up being a tragedy…  


I liked Ygritte, she had a certain spunk to her, and was always unapologetically herself. She had a bunch of funny questions for me, to lighten the mood. I usually supplied some blind jokes in return, making everyone groan at how bad they were. It was fun.  


Though I tried to help out around camp, I found out I was pretty shit at it… which wasn’t good seeing as a was probably going to be on my own going south at some point. But I was able to tell them which direction to hunt in, so… it felt like I was doing something. Though, I didn’t always get the chance to do that, because there was someone called a warg in the group, who could look around with the eyes of bird? But if an army of dead people exist, giants exist, and this entire situation is possible, there wasn’t any reason to be surprised at this point.  


I should probably get up now, and at least try to help out. I needed to accept I made a stupid, impulsive decision, and get on with it. I could ask Tormund to show me the tools to use again, maybe that would make me feel better about it. No turning back now at any rate. Besides, it was nice travelling with people like this. They didn’t know as much as the people back home did, they didn’t walk on eggshells around me, treating me gently like I was damaged beyond repair… I could almost forget sometimes.  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


“So, what do you miss the most, from your place?” Ygritte was asking Verona as they walked. Jon was walking close behind her while she asked Verona questions. 

The others close by had been listening to some of her questions as well, sometimes answering Verona’s questions in return. Tormund had been asking about the weather where she was from. Tormund had told her that is was always cold in the far north, and how winter could last for years at a time. How it marked the rise of the white walkers too. She seemed both fascinated and disturbed. 

She told them they had the opposite problem where she was from, with winters getting more and more mild as time when on. Some places where so hot they were uninhabitable, even if people had lived there 20 years before. It caused the second cold war, or the resource war, she had chuckled when she said it, it was an ironic name. Apparently it wasn’t a war with armies, but economics and bureaucracy… Jon didn’t realize that those things could count as a war, if it were the country would be in constant state of warfare. 

“The most? I’m not sure, it depends on the day I guess. Today, I miss the music the most I think. My dad taught me a lot of older songs. He said the good ones last a century for a reason. I listened to a lot, after I managed to escape.” 

“Music?” Tormund booms “We have to hear that now don’t we, songs from another world. What kind of stories do they tell?” 

“All kind,” she laughs, “I’m pretty sure there’s a song for everything by now. Why don’t you sing me some of your first, while I think of one for you?”

The free folk were all chuckling now, as Tormund cleared his throat in preparation. It turned out to be a ballad for a bear? Jon was laughing with the rest of them at Tormund’s ridiculous song. Apparently, Jon thought, Tormund was infatuated with the beast. It was the first time Jon has heard Verona cracking up with them, asking “You did what _with_ a bear?”

“Alright, alright, you think of one for us yet?” Tormund asks with a grin.

“Well, there’s one that came to mind I guess, by a band called led zeppelin. I’m not sure how good it’ll sound, without any instruments but, I did promise.” She cleared her throat as well, exaggerating a bit.  
_  
There's a lady who's sure, All that glitters is gold  
And she's buying a stairway to Heaven  
When she gets there she knows, If the stores are all closed  
With a word she can get what she came for  
Oh oh oh oh and she's buying a stairway to Heaven  
_  
More of the free folk appear to be listening now, Jon noticed. He turned to share a surprised look with Ygritte, she had a beautiful voice. She looked like she liked performing too, walking almost to a rhythm while she sang, complete with small hand gestures. Tormund was grinning ear to ear.  
_  
There's a sign on the wall, But she wants to be sure  
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings  
In a tree by the brook, There's a songbird who sings  
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiving  
Ooh, it makes me wonder  
Ooh, it makes me wonder  
_  
She gestures with her right arm then, growing a bit louder.  
_  
There's a feeling I get, When I look to the west  
And my spirit is crying for leaving  
In my thoughts I have seen, Rings of smoke through the trees  
And the voices of those who standing looking_

_And it's whispered that soon, If we all call the tune  
Then the piper will lead us to reason  
And a new day will dawn, For those who stand long  
And the forests will echo with laughter_

__  
She turns around then walking backwards, hands moving with the lyrics, a finger wag, a point to the distance, or something similar. She seemed to be talking more to the free folk around her now, as she continued.  
_  
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, Don't be alarmed now  
It's just a spring clean for the May queen  
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, But in the long run  
There's still time to change the road you're on_

_Your head is humming and it won't go, In case you don't know  
The piper's calling you to join him  
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow?  
And did you know  
Your stairway lies on the whispering wiiiind?  
_  
“And well, there’s a guitar solo now, and another part in a different tempo but I can’t quite remember the right words… but the final line is –

_And she buuyyying the stairway, to heavennn_

She finishes the song, the free folk looking thoughtful. It was a strange song, but it was nice to listen to. It was an odd concept though. 

“Who knew the sky person had such a pretty voice” Tormund compliments, the other free folk murmuring their agreement. Verona turn back forward, looking down with a shy smile visible, but rubbing her throat as well. 

“I used to love to sing, my dad taught me his favorite songs, he was teaching me how to play the guitar…” She looked off wistfully, a small smile on her face.

“What does it mean though?” Ygritte asked. Jon was grateful she did, he was curious as well.

“I think its intentionally vague… it could be about death, fear, maybe greed, or all of them at the same time.” Verona responds with a shrug. 

They continue to march south, some other free folk offering some lighthearted songs for the way. Jon kept thinking about the part of the song that mentioned two paths…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they're almost to the wall. But not yet.  
> It's going to still be a bit slow, I'm also trying to introduce this futuristic world she is from as well.  
> I was going for weapon X vibes with her backstory, with her tormentor being inspired from the doctor from the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, which is a great book btw.  
> And she can 'see' the way Toph does in Avatar: the Last Airbender.  
> She's basically a mix and match of things at this point, and I'm trying to make her unique enough to fit into the GoT universe.  
> Anyways, hope you're entertained so far! more to come!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've finally arrived at the wall, how will things go this time? Better or worse?

They were preparing at the base of the wall. Re-measuring the rope, re-counting the bolts, at lot of re-counting of everything. Jon saw Ygritte and Verona sitting not far away, Ygritte explaining something to her. The wind picked up a bit, Verona’s hair going in all directions, making Ygritte laugh. 

She never did put it up, she said she had short hair for so long she didn’t know how and didn’t see the point of it. Ygritte was talking more, he couldn’t quite make out what it was, but it looked like Ygritte was pulling Verona’s hair back. She must have convinced her somehow.

He hadn’t seen her face clearly before, it surprised him to see her eyebrows were a grey instead of blue though. He assumed they were just darker. She had sharper features than he expected. Sharp nose, chin, jawline, brows slightly arched. It could be an intimidating face, but her eyes were round and made her look gentle. The scar on her temple went back into her hair, it reminded him of a tree branch almost.

Ygritte had pulled her hair back as best as possible, the shorter strands still in her face, her hair looked like it was just to her shoulders in the back. He caught Ygritte’s gaze and they shared a smile. 

“I could tie yours back too, Jon Snow!” she called to him. “Don’t want it flapping about if the wind gets worse!”

“I think I’ll be just fine” he called back with a small smile. 

Being with Ygritte was indescribable. To know someone so intimately, just thinking about it made his heartbeat faster. He tried not to think further ahead, wanting to enjoy just _being_ with her. He think he might even love her. 

With everything prepared, the free folk approached the wall. Their eyes following Verona as she pressed a hand against it, she wasn’t wearing gloves though, they were black fingerless hand covers that matched the boots she wore. There might have been silver details on them but they were mostly obscured. 

“She says she doesn’t need them… gloves. She would be able to climb better if she could feel things.” Ygritte explained to him as she walked closer. “I warned her not to come crying when she loses her fingers to the ice.”

Jon acknowledged her with a small hum. 

“Come on, Jon Snow, we’re tying teams up now.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verona’s POV:

This really isn’t so bad. I can tell where to put the pick, where to put my feet, and how to use the bolts. It just took a while. I could just start to sense the top of the wall, and I could sense the others climbing, nothing unexpected had happened. The wind was hardly blowing, which Tormund has expressed surprise about, I didn’t say it but it might be a subliminal thing with me… 

Not even a minute after thinking everything was going perfect, I hear the ice start to crack below me. _Shit_!

I look down on instinct, even though it doesn’t really help. Its from Ygritte, spreading to our right very fast. Tormund hears it too, and the warg, Orell, below me. He’s bracing himself against the ice, I do the same, making sure my pickax is in deep, my boots digging into the wall. Then it happens, the ice starts to fall in huge amounts. I can feel the other climbing groups screaming, I let out a gasp of dismay. 

I feel the ice below me start to fall away, Ygritte Jon and Orell fall with it, I feel a huge jerk against me, but I manage to keep myself in place, for a few seconds I’m holding the three of them, but Orell below me manages to get ahold of the ice again. 

“We have to cut them loose!” I hear him yell below me.

“NO!”

“What?!”

Tormund and I yell at the same time. 

_Fuck, he’s actually doing it._ I hear him start to cut the rope. 

“Stop! We have time to figure it out, just give them a chance to move over! Stop cutting damn it!” I try in vain to get him to stop. I can feel myself getting really pissed off now. The wind picks up around us, I know what I have to do. I can feel Jon start to swing to the left, I’m not sure if he’ll make it in time though, or if he can get a good enough hold on Ygritte to stay on the wall. I’ll give them a push.

I reach out my arm, pointing left. I focus on where I think Ygritte and Jon are from the way the rope is swinging. I hear a surprised ‘oof’ from them both as they dig into the wall again. The wind is still blowing a lot harder around us, but I can’t bother to try and stop it, I’m still pretty pissed off. I hear Orell pause in his cutting, and almost sheepishly continue, no point having a half sawed through rope anyway, better to just cut it completely. 

Oh, we are going to have words. Right after I get my breathing under control… I can’t afford to freak out right now. 

Tormund hoisted himself up the side of the wall, I heard him walk around a bit before I think crouching down. I was just getting to the top when I felt his hand on my arm, I grip it back and he helps hoist me up. He pats my shoulder as I pass, he must have realized what I did… the wind was still howling. 

I finally hear Orell at the edge, a march over to him. I grab his coat and haul him up, tossing further on the wall. He lands with a huff of surprise. I was so frustrated, I didn’t know where to start. Maybe with what bothered me most. 

“You didn’t even try.” I snapped out at him. I hear him scoff. 

“That’s not how things are here other worlder. Its understood – “

“I don’t care what’s normal here! You could have helped move them by swinging the rope, you could have tried to pull them up, or something! You just decided they were doomed and were just going to let them _die_. You should have tried first. You should have tried!” I end up shouting out the last part. 

He just scoffed again, muttering how there was no point explaining to me. I could hear his heartbeat faster though, he scrambled up and walked off away from me. 

_What a Fucking Coward,_ I kept thinking.

I can hear Ygritte now, she was already over, I didn’t even notice. She was about to pull Jon up too. I turned away, walking past Tormund, who was probably listening the whole time… I needed space right now. It was starting to hit me, what I did. I just need a space to catch my breath.

I’m not sure how far away I am, but there’s a chunk of the wall I can lean against. I can still feel it, all over me, humming and aching and reminding me, reminding me of what I did, what I couldn’t stop myself from doing. I’ve already done it twice since I’ve been here… 

I feel myself sinking down against the wall, my head hangs down and I can’t stop shaking, I keep thinking about it. The places I destroyed… the people I killed… hearing the heartbeats slowly disappear while the sky warped around me. What did they tell me to do when I got like this? Count? 

If I just let myself feel… maybe if I concentrate, I can tell how tall the wall is… yes, I can feel the ice, solid and unmoving, at least at the moment. I can tell where we were when the large chunk slid off, I can feel where the bolts are still logged, I can hear people breathing, they’re alive and with me, everything is fine, it will be fine. 

I slowly stop shaking, my breath slows down. I slump a little further down against the ice.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They camp at the bottom of the wall, all of them exhausted and feeling like they could sleep for a week. They had chores to do though. Tormund and Verona were gathering firewood, so they could at least be warm. Tormund’s eyes followed her, wanting to ask more about what she could do.

“Your eyes glow a bit, when you… do what you do.” Tormund tells her. 

Verona actually looks surprised, she turns toward Tormund a bit, an eyebrow raised. “No one’s ever told me that… no one really likes to talk about it.”

“You’d think after you escaped and joined your people, they’d tell tales of what you could do for them.”

“I didn’t do that for them.” She says back, voice hard. “I wouldn’t use it to destroy, not ever again.” Her voice was stern and even angry, Tormund considers her words, and decided it was better not to push. He saw her shaking at the top of the wall. 

Something else then. Tormund grinned as he thought of something.

“Didn’t expect a little thing like you to be so strong, tossing someone about like that. I enjoyed watching you fling him about.” He was chuckling just thinking about it.  
Verona turned to him, her hair still pulled back so he could see her exaggerated offended expression, a hand going over her heart.

“I don’t look strong to you? I’m offended. You’ve offended me. I hope you’re happy.” the sarcasm was practically dripping from her tone. She huffs loudly and marches off with the sticks she managed to find, Tormund’s gruff laughter following her.

They walk back to camp in silence, Tormund starting the fire while the others finished camp. Ygritte, after finishing cleaning the rabbits she spotted while making camp, approaches Verona. Her eyes follow Verona’s hands curiously.

“So, didn’t loose any fingers then?” 

Verona acts like she’s inspecting them thoroughly before replying, “They look fine to me.”

“ _Ha. Ha._ But come on, how’s that? Don’t you feel cold?”

“Yeah I guess… but its not like I remember. It’s not as strong, I think. Same for the heat.” Verona pulls back a sleeve and slides one of her gloves off, revealing a pale scar starting on her wrist and going further up her arm, two centimetres across and unnaturally straight. “They changed me as much as they could...”

Ygritte watched her, a surprised face turned into an angry expression.

“I hope you gave those _fucks_ what was comin’ to them.” Ygritte spat out. Verona’s mouth twitched up in a smile before putting her fingerless glove back on.

“They got theirs, in the end.” Verona tells her quietly.

“Good. Lets go make Tormund cook for us.” Ygritte marches over to the fire. 

Jon starts making his way over, but before he could say anything Verona interrupts.

“Everyone’s taking turns today, talking to me. Next the warg will have something to say… probably not though I sort of yelled at him.” She frowns to herself.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Not the yelling – ” Jon adds after seeing her raise an eyebrow and frown. “Just… thanks I suppose. For… trying.” Jon ends up sounding pretty awkward, and walks off to Ygritte.

Verona listens to him leave, a small smile on her face. “Anytime” she mutters to herself.

I wasn’t long before they were all gathered around the fire, sharing food curtesy of Ygritte and a reluctant Tormund. Verona sipping on her warm water, listening to the sounds of the night grow louder. She could always tell what time of day it was because of the insects… in a city or base though, it was harder to tell. There were always large amounts of people awake, drowning out everything else. 

Thinking of people back home got her to thinking of people here. How similar some of the stories were, compared to her own history, different technologies but, similar conflicts, at least in the past… She wondered just how many people lived in this world. It was hard to tell.

She tuned back into the conversation at the fire, listening to them talk about the sight on top of them wall, ironically enough. They were all murmuring their agreements, Verona gave an exaggerated, “amazing” that got a scoff a groan and a chuckle. 

“I have a question.” Verona announced.

“Who’s it for?” Ygritte responded, looking expectant.

Verona shrugs in response, “Anyone who has an answer, I guess. How many people live in Westeros?”

An exact number of people? They didn’t quite know that… they turned to Jon, he would probably have a better guess than they would at least.

“Umm, more than thirty-five million maybe? More people live in the south overall, it’s hard to determine an exact number… I know that there may be, about four million in the north.” Jon supplied after thinking a bit.

Verona’s eyebrows raised, surprised at how low it was… she knew the technology they had would mean less people, but this was less than Europe was with the same sort of technology and systems in place, and she thought there here was larger than Europe… perhaps their constant warfare took a bigger toll than she had thought… 

“What about your home, you have a number?” Jon asked.

Verona looked a bit unsure, and maybe even concerned. She took a sip of her water, still looking uncomfortable. “More than that…” She muttered quietly before sitting up more.

“There was over four hundred million in the US, before the war started… I’m not sure how many people there are now… Or what areas are considered part of it… It got weird at the end of the war, I wasn’t sure what other places joined, or if it was temporary…?” She shook her head in exasperated confusion, but the others were now looking at her in shock.

That many people in one country? And they had somehow managed to get here once, could they do it again? With even more people? Maybe that was why she was uncomfortable telling them, it didn’t feel good knowing you were so vastly outnumbered, even if it was an unseen force. 

“You said you were born in the largest city in your country. How many people were in that?” Ygritte asks her next.

“New York? The city was nine and a half million, but with the surrounding areas it was twenty-seven, maybe more than than, a lot of people still travel there from all over the world. Even still, it wasn’t the _largest_ city in world…” She looked down, her brows pulled down, looking more sad than wistful, as she usually got when talking about home.

“I imagine it was quite a site, seeing people live on top of each other.” Tormund huffs out. 

"It was crowded, but spread out quite a lot. Or we built taller buildings. It really wasn't so bad..." she had a small smile on her face this time, instead of just looking vaguely sad. That seemed like progress, at least to Jon.

Conversation resumed afterwards, but Verona continued to look down, no more smile on her face, lost in thought, as she often did sometimes. Jon and Ygritte exchanged troubled looks but didn’t try to get her to say more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying, and I hope succeeding, in building actual friendships between all the characters that seems believable. 
> 
> Some interesting new details revealed here. So Verona's not sure what is still considered the US? What could that mean? Is she keeping something else from them perhaps? 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally south of the wall, but they can't stay together forever. How long will Verona stay with them now? How does she react when actually confronted with her friends' way of life?

Walking south was tedious, Verona had decided, no wonder they invented faster ways to travel this took forever. They said they were making progress though, so that was good. She shared some conversation with people as she walked, learning that they were going slightly west now, but when they got to the main road south they would let her know… the person that told her was nervous when he said it, so it put her on edge immediately. She sought Jon out to talk.

“So we’re going west now… I’m thinking about leaving soon, just going south. Will you still help me?” she asked him carefully.

“Of course, I promised didn’t I?” He reassured her, she didn’t sense any deception in his tone. She nodded thankfully. Then thought of something else to ask.

“Will you really go back, now that you’re with Ygritte?”

She could hear Jon sputter is surprise, stammering over a reply.

“Its alright you know, I’m not judging you. People with different backgrounds fall in love all the time.” Now she was reassuring him.

“That happens a lot, where you’re from?” He asks her, regarding her with a considering expression.

“Sure that happens, maybe not so much lately admittedly, not with all the fighting… sort of like here but with more people.” She explains, looking thoughtful but also sad.

Verona continued, seemingly lost in thought. 

“There were so many people… so many different points of view. I thought everyone could live together, when I was young. That even with such, different perspectives, people could just… agree they could be different. But there’s always conflict, when large groups of people get together. 

“Even here, I see the same thing. Some people like serving a lord, it gives them purpose, a feeling that their lives mean something. Like people who joined the army back home. Some, like to go where they want, when they want, and don’t think anyone is entitled to tell them what to do… I knew a lot of people like that. But one’s not, _better_ than the other. There’s not one type of person in the world, people are just… different.”

Jon was quiet awhile after that, thinking about what she shared. If that was really how she saw their people, and their conflict with each other. If it really was that simple to an outside perspective. She might be talking about her own people more than them though, at least that’s what Jon was inclined to think.   
She related everything back to her own home when speaking about it. It must have been hard to have the entire world go to war, especially when she believed, probably very strongly from the way she talked, that people should live together in understanding. It was a nice sentiment, admittedly, but childish and naive. But here Jon was, in love with a wildling girl, so who was he to tell her that. Besides, it sounded like she knew it was a childish thought.

“I wish it _was_ that simple.” Jon finally decided on saying.

“Me too…” Verona said softly and then decided to walk ahead of him. 

They were passing a small windmill when Ygritte caught up with him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A scout came back from venturing ahead, the group waited to hear what he had to say. There was a small house up ahead, it had horses, not sure how many yet though. Just one man was there. Tormund and the others got ready to move in closer, all of them getting their weapons ready, even Ygritte. Verona looked at them in   
confusion.

“What are you planning on doing?” She asked them bluntly.

There was a pause before Orell answered. “Its just one man, with multiple horses. He don’t need em all. If he’s by himself, no one needs him neither.” 

She turns to him, eyebrows raised in concern and surprise. She turns to Tormund then looking alarmed.

“You’re not going to kill him? For what, having horses? Being in the wrong place when you happen to be walking by? You’ve got to be joking….” Her tone is getting more and more stiff as she speaks, eyebrows pinched now in concern.

“What does it matter, this land is ours by right, he shouldn’t be here. He’ll go warn the crows where we are if he sees us. And we could use horses.” The other free folk and murmuring their agreement, Jon is looking down, not happy about what might happen soon, unsure if he’ll go through with it. Ygritte is watching him closely.  
Verona’s face is blank after Tormund’s explanation, as if unsure what to feel at this point. She slowly starts to shake her head.

“That’s not a good enough reason to kill someone. For land that he and his family have probably lived on for centuries? There comes a point when you accept a loss and move on, you’re just sounding like petty assholes the way you carry on about stolen land! It doesn’t justify killing families! Just like the night’s watch isn’t justified in killing families! You’re both so _fucking_ ridiculous, you know that?! You both do the same fucking things to each other, over and over and you’re both wrong to do it. And _horses_ are _not_ a good enough reason to kill someone!”

She’s shouting at them all now, anger causing her eyebrows to pinch down, her eyes to narrow. The free folk around her are surprised and then nervous, some are clenching their weapons in preparation to strike. Ygritte looks pretty shocked at her outburst, Tormund frowning at being compared to the crows. 

“What do you know about it? Have you ever even held –” Orell starts to say but Verona turns right to him, glaring his direction.

“I was made to kill more people than you could know.” She says lowly, “I was forced into a corner of my own mind and sense everything that was happening. I hated it. I hate remembering it. I didn’t have a choice then. I didn’t have a _choice_!” Her voice started to grow louder again as she continued, “I have a choice now.   
And _horses_! Are _not fucking good enough_!”

She walks over to where she left her bag, the free folk avoiding her, unsure how to feel at her outburst. She sounded more guilty with herself than angry with them, at the end. She does still look really angry at them though.

“This is such bullshit. Maybe the army of the undead is a punishment for both of you, maybe you all deserve what’s coming for you!” She spat it at them, causing them all the be angry in return, a few notching arrows, even Ygritte looked pissed now. Jon felt hurt she would say it, staring in disbelief. 

“Tell me which direction is south, and I’ll be on my way. I don’t want any part of this anymore, I’m done travelling with you.” She snaps out at them, but none of them move, unsure if they should let her leave or attack, they turn to Tormund, who’s been glaring since she told them they deserved to die. 

But Jon remembers his promise, and knows what he needs to do. He walks slowly past her, standing south of her. He tells her, “This way.” In a stiff voice. Her eyes soften a bit when he does, but she marches off quickly anyway.

Tormund stares at Jon intensely now, suspicion on his face, as well as others.

“She’s obviously not going to fight you. Why not let her leave?... How long will she last anyway…” He trails off and starts getting ready to go to the house the scout wanted them to attack.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verona’s POV:

I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking before it starts raining. It soaks through the free folk garb quickly, making it soggy and uncomfortable. I hear myself groan in discomfort, and decide to just wear my other cloths. I don’t need these now do I?

I rip off the jacket, leaving me in my undershirt, and pull out clothing from the bag I had. I identified my shirt easily enough, and the vest was pretty identifiable, it was the heaviest thing in there. I changed pants quickly, pulling my boots off and putting them back on within a minute. I fling the other cloths away in frustration, I hear thunder overhead.

I can feel myself still shaking a bit, from anger or something else… I don’t even know if I caused this storm or not, everything was so jumbled now. If I had so little control to cause even this unintentionally… I can’t help but feel scared, scared that I’ll revert back somehow. Even though I know it’s not possible, that thing isn’t in my head anymore, I keep having to remind myself _it’s not possible_.

I have everything buckled and in place, the only thing left is the cape… that stupid cape they made for that _stupid_ ceremony. This entire outfit was just for show, _and what a show it turned out to be_ I thought bitterly.

I strap it on easily enough. I leave the cloths, and the bag, I don’t need them, I don’t need anything from them. I march on. I’m still shaking. The thunder gets louder and I realize I’ve started to cry.

I pause and look down, leaning over with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I wasn’t even sure when I started breathing so quickly. I just needed a moment, just a moment to pull myself together and not feel like a terrible person…

Terrible for killing all those people… terrible for not being able to escape for so long… terrible for not finding out the truth earlier… I sink down to my knees, shaking and crying and out of breath. I can’t catch it this time, I just can’t. Sometimes I just needed to get it out, and what better place, no one’s around to get hurt if I loose it. 

I feel the wind get more intense around me, the thunder sounds a bit closer to me. I slowly start to try again, to catch my breath and think of what’s around me, what I can feel.

My hands move to hold my head, my hair a complete mess now with the wind, Ygritte’s hair tie had been lost while changing my shirt I guess… 

I’m terrible for telling my friends they deserved to die… I was just so angry at how easily they could kill someone, without really thinking about it, when with me, it’s   
all I think about. How I could have prevented people from dying if I had just done this, or that. Their attitude reminded me of what it was like being under someone else’s control, someone how didn’t give to fucks about killing anyone and everyone she pleased. And I just lost it.

I shouldn’t have said that to them though… they’ve been fighting for centuries, their conflicts are their own. And Jon… he did what he promised even after I said that. He deserved those words least of all… it made my heart ache just thinking about it. 

The rain continued to fall. I got back up and continued walking. I might not find anyone for a while, especially after learning how few people there were compared to home. I needed to try, or I’d starve out here…

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon rode away from the free folk, away from Ygritte, needing to put some distance between them. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t. They were still his people; he swore to protect them. He loved Ygritte, but he swore an oath and he had to get to castle black now.

He thought about Verona, just deciding to walk away as soon as she heard what they were going to do, how mad she had gotten at them. And when the sky started turning darker, they all wondered how much of that was her doing.

He understood her though, sympathized and wished he could walk away then and there but with him, there would have always been a fight. He would never have been allowed to leave. If she didn’t find a town or farm, she would starve out there… Even if she did, northerners aren’t the most trusting, who knew what would happen…

_Fuck it_ he thought, turning his horse south. She was only walking, she couldn’t have gotten far, he had to find her, he couldn’t just let her die… she didn’t deserve it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Feel free to leave feedback, always appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

The rain stopped not too long ago, and Jon could see further now. He was starting to get worried, he thought he would have spotted her by now, unless she had gotten mixed up and headed a different way? 

How long could he afford to look for her, he really needed to get back and warn his brothers of the coming threat. Just when he started to loose hope, and thought about turning around, he spotted her. It had to be her, Verona’s hair was pretty distinct. He rode towards her.

“Verona!” He shouted, even from far away he saw her turn quickly. 

As he got closer he noticed she wasn’t wearing her cloths from the free folk, and wasn’t carrying the bag she had the whole time he knew her. This must have been what she was wearing when she arrived. Grey black and silver accents, with a flowing cape. It made her took tall and lean.  
It sort of lost the effect though, seeing her semi-dried hair going every which way… Jon thought it was a little funny.

“Jon?” She asked, her tone uncertain.

“Aye. This what you normally wear?” 

“No. It was just for a ceremony… It was more waterproof.” She answered plainly. Jon got off the horse to speak more to her, she eyes followed roughly where he was. 

“Just you?... What happened?” She asks him.

“I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t kill the man they wanted me to kill. Orell and Tormund accused me of still being a crow, he ordered them to kill me. I had to leave… Ygritte tried to help me but I had to leave her. I have to go back, I need to warn my brothers what’s to come.” Jon told her, struggling to get through it. 

Verona regarded him sadly. She wasn’t sure if he would really leave or not, after being with Ygritte. It was sad, but she understood. He stayed with the night’s watch even when his family was being targeted. That sort of bond was strong too. It was different having a sworn responsibility to a people… 

“That sucks man.” She said succinctly. Jon looked vaguely puzzled at the word choice. 

“Look, you’re not safe out here, you don’t have food, supplies, I’ve never seen you make a fire without help. I know you want to find others but you don’t even know if there was another part of your ship that came here. Just south… it isn’t enough to go on.” Jon insisted gently.

Verona looks away with a frown. “I… realize it’s a longshot. But someone must have seen…”

“Northerners don’t trust easily, I don’t think you’d be welcome honestly. Not without the right information. Come with me to castle black, if there’s more information maester Aemon would know it. We can give you supplies, maybe even have people go with you.”

She considered the offer. It was true, she didn’t really know where she was going, or if it’d be worth it. Who knows the sort of people she’d run into… It was safer to go with him. Jon helped her leave before, she thinks he’d help again if he had to. She needed to make sure though.

“And they’ll let me leave, no problem?” She asked him.

“They will, women aren’t really allowed there, they wouldn’t want you to stay anyway.” He said with a chuckle. Verona looked toward him again, an eyebrow raised.

“It’ll be fine though! Maester Aemon will want you there to talk in any case, I’m sure of it.”

She nods and gives a quiet ‘ok’, then turns to consider the horse.

“Is it… one of that man’s horses?” She asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Jon says softly.

“I’ve never ridden one…” she looks uncomfortable thinking about it.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” Jon smiled and tapped her arm. “I’ll help you up.” She nods in acknowledgement.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verona’s POV:

We stopped by a pond on our way to castle black. It was weird riding a horse, everything was more fuzzy than I was comfortable with. And it was odd having to hold onto the horse while moving, Jon said I was way too tense it makes it more difficult that way, but I couldn’t help it. I’m not sure if I like it…

I kept thinking of how I stormed off earlier, without really thinking about the long term… I felt foolish about it now but I don’t see how I could have stayed after that. I should probably apologize… for that last thing I said…

“I sorry… for saying you all deserved to die. I don’t actually think you deserve to fight an army of the dead.” I tell him quietly, before he walked to the edge of the pond. I hear him pause.

“I figured you were upset… It’s reassuring to hear though.” He sounds amused so, that’s good.

Jon was washing his face off by the bank.

“Did you get hurt, getting away?” I ask him. I should have earlier, when he said they tried to kill him.

“Orell’s bird got my face.” He explained. 

His bird huh… I wanted to ask if he was dead but I heard a horse and rider approaching. Jon was still crouched down. 

“Jon!” I hiss under my breath, I hear a bow being drawn… I hope it’s not Ygritte, even though, with the way they walked…

I hear Jon stand up.

“Ygritte you know I didn’t have a choice.” Jon tells her, sounded broken up about it. 

Damn, I wish I could disappear from this, it wasn’t my place to hear…

“You always knew what I was, what I am. I have to go home now. _We_ have to go home now.” 

I don’t think you should mention me maybe… He takes a step back, Ygritte adjusts her stance. That’s… not good.

“I know you won’t hurt me.” Jon tell her. I don’t know about that, she seems pretty mad. 

“You know nothing Jon Snow.” I hear her say. From Jon’s reaction it must have been an inside joke or something.

“I do know some things.” He sounds so sad now. “I know I love you.” I can hear Ygritte readjust again, whimpering quietly too. My heart aches for them, this situation wasn’t fair.

“I know you love me. I _have_ to go home now.” Jon continues brokenly.

I hear him turn, but he doesn’t get closer to the horse and me before Ygritte looses her arrow. I hear Jon fall forward towards me, I gasp in shock. She really did it. I hear her knocking another.

“Jon!” I start towards him to help him up, but before I make it a feel an arrow hit my chest, knocking some of the breath out of me. The vest does its job and it doesn’t get far, but she aimed right for my heart, that hurt worse that if it would have hit I think. 

Jon has gotten his feet and pushes me up on the horse, I’m disoriented from it but I manage to hold on to the mane. Jon jumps up quickly behind me and we start riding away quickly, I’m barley holding on. She must loose another arrow, because Jon cries out in pain behind me.

My heart is hammering in my chest, I can’t tell where she hit him, or how bad it was. He speaks first though, before I can ask.

“How bad is it, where she hit you?”

I shake my head while responding. “I didn’t hit me. This thing can stop bullets, it can stop arrows too. She hit you though, twice. Do you need to stop? Is it bad?”

“Bullets?..” He asks instead.

“I’ll explain after you tell me where she hit you!” I insist.

“… My back, I think she was aiming for my heart.” He tells me. 

That’s not good, that’s really not good. I exhale shakily.

“How far are we from castle black?”

“…not far. I’ll get us there…” He tells me.

“Good. Because I have no clue where I’m going. And I… fuck Jon I have no idea how to help arrow wounds so, stay awake alright, let me know you’re awake?” I start with a nervous chuckle, but I sound panicked by the end. I hear him huff, out of annoyance or laughter I can’t actually tell. He readjusts his grip on the reigns, I’m still clinging to the horse’s mane, way too tense and extremely uncomfortable but I can’t relax right now. 

“You promised to explain if I answered you.” He reminded me. We weren’t moving as fast now. I could hear things better, I wasn’t quite as disoriented. 

“They’re small pieces of metal that are shot instead of arrows… they go faster and are more deadly. They’re shot from something called guns instead of bows.” I try to explain as quickly as possible, not really liking having to explain them… 

“Sounds terrifying…” Jon tells me. I can feel him wince.

“Yeah… I’ve never swung a sword you know? I know how to use knives, and they taught me hand to hand combat. I’ve always wanted to learn, all my favorite characters in books used them.” I try to change the subject, maybe he’ll tell me more about how he learned. 

I’m not sure how long its been, we’ve been riding nonstop for awhile now. He’s told me stories, of learning to fight with his brother, other stories about his father, and they things he taught him. It was bittersweet for him, I could tell. His pauses were getting longer and longer, he started slumping forward. 

The first time he did he jerked back and apologized, wincing badly when he did, the idiot shouldn’t be jerking back like that. I told him it was fine if he needed to just try to stay awake. I couldn’t remember the last time someone leaned on me… Maybe my little brother? It was a little awkward, but he was shot twice in the back, I wasn’t about to shake him off. Maybe it was a little nice too, but mostly awkward. 

I don’t know how long it was but he mentioned it was within sight, just straight ahead now, and started slumping forward even more. I couldn’t get another word out of him no matter what I tried. I grabbed his arm with one hand, prepared to catch him if I needed to. I actually heard shouting up ahead now.

“Riders approaching!” I heard a man shout, sounded like it was above me, some kind of structure then.

“Halt!” How do I halt? Before I could figure it out, I feel Jon start to slide to the right. I still have a hold of his arm but it only slows him, is doesn’t stop his fall. I decided to try and go with him, maybe break his fall somehow. I’m sure it looked ridiculous to whoever was up there. I only half succeeded in breaking Jon’s fall, I wound up stumbling down from the horse, and falling with him, but managing to keep his head from slamming down at least.

“This is Jon Snow! He needs help!” I call out to the man above the gate. Now that I’m on the ground I can feel where it is, I would have had the horse go right into it… 

The gate opens, I hear more people approaching. 

“It is Jon.” I hear one of them mutter in a surprised tone. 

“He was shot twice, he said it was close to his heart.” I tell them.

“You’re shot too?” A man asks me. I guess I never let go of the horse to pull it out of the vest. I reach up and pull it out, the few people around make sounds of distress, probably knowing not to do what I just did to an actual arrow wound… 

“I didn’t hit me.” I tell them simply, tossing the arrow away. 

There’s a pause before they move to pick Jon up, I move out of the way for them, they’re dragging him inside to what I think is some courtyard. I stand and follow them, unsure what I should do exactly. I hear more people running towards him now, they just leave him in the middle though…

Before I can ask why they’re not helping him, I can tell Jon moves his head a bit, I exhale in relief, its good he’s awake again. 

“Jon, Jon it’s us!” Someone who just arrived is saying.

“I don’t think he can see us.” Another says.

But I can tell Jon is moving, and I can hear him say their names. “Pyp? Sam?” He sounds so relieved.

“Hush now, you’re home.” Either Pyp or Sam says to him. I’m more reassured he’s in good hands now. 

“Carry him inside. _Gently_.” The same man says. 

A larger group manages to pick him up on all sides and are moving him towards the steps. I also here people murmuring, hushed whispers about the woman that’s here… I want to follow Jon but I’m not sure how I would be useful. In any case I want to make sure his heart keeps beating. I make to follow them, but while I’m starting after I hear someone call to me. 

“Wait, Miss!” The same gentle voice from earlier, welcoming Jon home. I decide to stop and turn to him. I can tell Jon’s getting further away, and more people are emerging, and murmuring to each other. 

“Pardon me but, would you mind telling us who you are? And how you came across Jon?” The same man asks me.

“My name’s Verona.” I introduce myself. But now I’m at a loss to explain the rest…

“I… I’m from another world. The free folk found me, and let me travel with them. Jon joined them later… we both decided to leave… Jon had to fight them to leave.” There that’s succinct enough. The talking around me got louder though. I heard snippets of ‘other world’, and ‘that blue thing from before’, and, what most concerned me was someone saying, ‘more of them?’. 

“Well… I’m Samwell Tarly.” The man introduced himself, squeaking slightly. 

I turn to where the group was taking Jon, now really unsure if I should follow or not. It felt like a weight off my shoulders, knowing there _were_ other survivors, now I just wanted to make sure he was ok. Sam must have realized my dilemma.

“He’ll be alright, I’m sure. He was awake, that’s a good sign. Are you… hurt at all?” He asked me.

I shook my head. Then remembered someone Jon had mentioned, who would know more about my people potentially. 

“Jon mentioned a… mister Aemon? He said he would know where to find other… my people?” I try, hoping that was right.

“It’s _Maester_.” Sam corrected gently. “And, yes he would know the most. I’ll take you to him, I can tell you what I know though. If you want. Umm, do you need me to guide you or?...” He asks awkwardly at the end, he must have noticed then. My hair was probably windswept and he could see clearly. 

“I can follow you. And yes, I’d like to know everything.” I tell him. 

“Well, um, this way then.” I hear him start to walk away, I follow where he’s going while he continues talking. I try to drown out the others’ whispers, they were only making me anxious. 

“There was another part of what you were in that landed pretty far south of there. I read it to the Maester when the letter arrived, there were people who claimed to be from another world that was inside of it, but I’m not sure how many exactly. The citadel sent a group there specifically to talk to them, but that’s really all _I_ know. The Maester might have received more ravens after I left, I suppose.” He tells me while we walk up the stairs.

“You really have no idea how many?” I ask him.

“Well, there have been rumors, but they range from fifteen to thirty so I can’t be sure.” He tells me. That’s still more than I hoped for, considering I was the only one further north. 

“It couldn’t be thirty.” I tell him sadly. We’re at a flat part now, approaching a door I think, when I hear someone else approaching us, not like the others watching but actually coming towards me. 

“And who gave you permission to walk about here girl?” A gruff voice is directed at me. The newcomer isn’t staring at me though, judging by the way Sam is shifting uncomfortably in front of me. I turn to face him. 

“Ser Alliser! Um, Verona here says she’s from another world. She wants to talk to the Maester for answers…” Sam trails off. 

“You were with Jon Snow, who I heard was shot by wildlings. You know what happened, you need to talk to me first and explain.” He doesn’t sound like he’s asking. Which is irritating. I finally have more information about my people, and maybe even a way to get home is in sight. I’m not waiting now.

“No.” I tell him simply. “I’ll talk to you after I get answers, if you want. But not now.” The murmuring around the place goes quiet. 

“It wasn’t a question.” Ser Alliser tells me.

“I’ve been traveling for _months_ going south. The only thing keeping me going was the belief that there could be other survivors. I’m getting answers _now_. I’ll talk to _you, after_.” I can’t keep the frustration out of my voice. I turn back to Sam, and point to what I hope is a door and ask him, “through here?”

“Oh, uh, yes that’s the one.” He tells me, still sounding a bit nervous. This Ser Alliser guy isn’t moving towards me, so I don’t care. Sam moves again, opening the door and I go in. I hear Sam entering behind me. I stop after only taking a few steps, getting my bearings. There’s only one other person, sitting to the right of me, so I turn to face him.

“Maester Aemon. This is Verona, she claims to be one of the people who fell from the sky. And well, we never got a chance to speak more about it yet so, perhaps you’ve received more news since I was here last?” Sam asked very politely. 

“Oh? A real person, who fell from the sky… even with all my years, I couldn’t have imagined something like that happening. I heard it was quite a site, a real shame I couldn’t see it. Tell me, do you have a family name?” Maester Aemon asks me, he sounds very old, older than I expected. I wonder if he can’t see as well or if he just wasn’t outside…

“Rendell. My full name is Verona Rendell.” I tell him.

“Verona Rendell. Well, I did get one more raven from the group that was sent as an envoy to the first crash site. It said, there were seventeen people that survived, five were injured badly, the rest only suffered minor wounds. Three people were killed on impact. The surviving people claiming to be from another world were asking specifically about another part of their, ‘ship’, as they called it. But I told them that it was only seen going past the wall, nothing more. I know it crashed nearest to Barrowton, but I haven’t received any more news than that, I’m sorry to say.” He tells me. 

Seventeen was more than I could have hoped for. If that many people survived then that probably meant the main hull of the ship was better protected, maybe some systems were still operational? I had to let them know I was alright, maybe they could send someone here, or I could have help going down? I don’t even know how far Barrowton is… Of course that’s getting ahead of myself, I can’t leave before making sure Jon’s alright.

“That’s, really good to hear, thank you. Is it possible to get word to them? Tell them, I’m the only survivor, there were five more with me who didn’t make it. How far is Barrowton exactly?” I ask him hopefully.

“Why don’t you sit down, and Sam can take down what you want to say. I will make sure to send a raven as soon as possible, telling the other Maesters from the citadel of your survival, and tell them to convey your message to your people. Barrowton, while still in the north, is almost two weeks travel, and that’s the most ideal circumstances.” He’s telling me this and I hear Sam walking around, it sounds like he’s dragging a chair closer to the fire. 

“Um, there’s a chair here for you, do you... need me to show you or?” Sam asks me hesitantly. It’s nice he wants to help but it’s still a little awkward. Maybe I should explain…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they've made it to castle black, and she finally has some answers. How will she find the members of the night's watch? She's planning on finding them, but she's willing to wait to make sure Jon's alright. 
> 
> Here's some pictures of what I imagine she's wearing if you're interested:
> 
> [Outfit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/300615343883252301/?nic_v1=1aUdo7kwCLfC2leD5r8Ni6Uz%2Fvg858%2BIOr%2BE83i8s%2FvtYjQbPcCZj60kltFfM6yshP)  
> It's black widow's avengers infinity war outfit but different color scheme and more metal in it. The swirling pattern I said was in it is like vines, and Celtic knots. Its supposed to represent wind. And a cape with it. Not the same boots and wrist attachment shown though.
> 
> [Boots](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/300615343883309620/?nic_v1=1ac4DVuSt00v7ApL2UnC0fgiIW6TmYdQY42zNA7qFjHmWhUaIIGMsQGkUa8xwIrVP8)
> 
> [Gloves](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/300615343883309605/?nic_v1=1amSHRb6UUVNZbOEvwxJhIiXwaTm4tjIy33tOXmnTivATaojDitCke6RG29Lc5Xlhj)


	8. Chapter 8

Sam thought it was fascinating, meeting someone from another world. A whole new set of history, a whole new culture, completely knew to him. How could he not be interested in that? He listened to her explanation on how she knew where things were with amazement, it was an incredible accomplishment for sure. 

She further explained though, that it was something she had to learn… that she had been a prisoner and experimented on. She had already explained to the free folk that helped her, and to Jon as well. She was careful when talking about Jon and the wildlings, making sure to keep them separate, wanting to make sure he wasn’t in more trouble than he already was, Sam was inclined to think.

He was told to take her to talk to the high table after talking with Maester Aemon. He was worried that somehow, even unintentionally, they would use something she said against either herself or Jon. So maybe, telling her to avoid describing her time with the wildlings would be best. The bare minimum at least. 

All in all, she didn’t talk to them for long. He waited outside for her, planning on taking her to where she was staying later, with Gilly and the baby, and introducing them. She walked out and said she was done. He peaked inside and could see Maester Aemon smiling like he had been chuckling. Thorne was scowling after her, the rest were either uncomfortable or glaring as well. 

She wasn’t given official guest rights but was being given refuge like Gilly was. He could tell after he got her settled in the others were going to ask him questions; eyes where following her and she walked with him. Just her appearance alone would be enough to get people talking, but the fact she was one of the _others_ they heard about, well…

He was curious about how long she had known Jon, what exactly it was like for him in the wildling camp. She explained a little but he could tell she still wasn’t sure how much to share. She did say he told her about his family, about the choice he had to make to stay here. 

Sam choked up a bit hearing it, realizing again that Jon didn’t know about his brother, about lady Stark, and how one of his brothers was north of the wall now. He decided to tell her about the red wedding, how the Freys and Boltons had betrayed Robb Stark, and the carnage that followed.

Verona’s eyes had widened in shock, and she had exhaled sharply, she muttered _shit_ under her breath. Her face turned to concern, shaking her head and saying, “He’s been away for so long. He had no way of knowing…” 

Fortunately, she and Gilly got along alright. Gilly was curious as well, and Sam thought she just asked the sweetest questions.

“I was named after the Gillyflower. Were you named after something, where you’re from?” Gilly had asked Verona, who had a small smile on her face while replying.

“Yeah actually. My father’s family came from a different country, named Italy. My great-great grandmother was from a city named Verona. My father always liked Italy, so he named be after the city they came from.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could be named after a city. It’s a very pretty name.” Gilly told her. 

Sam figured she would be alright for the night, and was going to slip away but before he could, Verona called out to him.

“Hey! Uh, Sam? You’ll tell me when Jon wakes up, won’t you? Or, just… how he’s doing?” She asked him, he could tell she was worried about him.

“Of course, I’ll make sure to inform you. Goodnight.” He tells her, and smiles and waves to Gilly. She responds in kind and he leaves them. 

* * *

After Jon woke, he was greeted shortly by his friends. Happy but grim at the same time. He could tell he was about to receive bad news, but even then, he couldn’t have imagined just how bad. He could tell they had a lot to ask him, but he wanted to be alone for a while, he just wasn’t up to it yet. 

Sam came back to visit him later, he spoke more to him but still, it felt raw. Hearing about Bran north of the wall gave him mixed feelings. He was glad he was alive, but he knew what was out there beyond the wall. It would make any older brother scared. Seeing Sam though, had him thinking about whether Verona had been able to find out about her people. 

“And how is Verona? Is she staying here? Are more of her people alive?” Jon asked him, while getting ready to speak to the high table members.

“She’s staying with Gilly and little Sam at the moment. I was able to send a raven earlier today, I had to wait for one to return, we had sent out all of them before you got here. But, yes, there are more of her people after all. Closest to Barrowton according to Maester Aemon.” Sam tells him.

Jon gives a relieved nod. “That’s good at least. I know she wanted to find more of them since I knew her. She thinks they’ll have a way to get home.”

“Yes, she was relieved to hear it… she asked about you a lot, wanting to know you were going to be alright. She wanted to talk to you but Ser Alliser insisted you talk to them first, to make sure your stories are the same. Though she only talked with them a couple minutes I don’t think she told them much.” Sam told him, he sounded like he wanted to ask him something else. 

Jon was concerned hearing that Ser Alliser didn’t want them to speak yet, even though he didn’t plan on keeping anything from them… except maybe Ygritte. He wasn’t sure yet.

It still hurt to think about her. How betrayed she looked when he saw her again, how betrayed he felt when she shot her arrows into him. She even took a shot at Verona, who was her friend. He looked at Sam expectedly, as if saying ‘something to add’, at his hesitance.

“Well, there has been some talk, that maybe… you know, you and her… got together on your travels?” Sam asked him timidly.

Jon was surprised at that, he had only considered Ygritte while traveling, Verona hadn’t shown an interest. In fact she sometimes teased them with Tormund. He didn’t consider an outside perspective though. He did consider them friends at this point at the least, and after arriving with him just escaped from wildlings, and her in her other world get up, he could see how people would assume. 

“No. We’re just friends Sam.” Jon told him. “There was someone though… I’ll tell you about it later alright?” He promised Sam, as he was finished getting ready.  


Sam nodded, looking curious, and Jon set off.

Jon gave a quiet exhale of relief, hearing Maester Aemon telling him he wouldn’t loose his head today. He could tell Verona didn’t tell them practically anything, except that he had to escape at the end. All members of the high table surprised to hear he had laid with a wildling. Jon had to hand it to her, she was able to pick up on things well for not being able to see. It also made him grateful she tried to protect him still…

Jon was about to leave, thinking he was done, but he heard Ser Alliser call out for him to stay.

“There’s someone else we need to discuss. That… blue haired foreigner.” Thorne told him.

“More than a foreigner I would say.” Janos Slynt added.

“What’s there to talk about? I was told her people are alive, she wants to go back to them.” Jon asks them bluntly. 

“Maybe the fact, that she hasn’t told us anything at all. Some of her people are alive, from _another world_. And she hasn’t even given us details about how she got here or where she’s from. But I think you know, Jon Snow. I think she told you.” Thorne tells him sternly. Jon considers him silently before responding. 

“If she didn’t tell you, maybe she doesn’t want you to know.” Jon tells them.

“Well, since she has people here in the north, and we’ve not offered her guest rights, then she leaves today. We don’t need to waste time or resources on a stranger.” Thorne stares down at him in challenge. Jon grimaces, knowing he’ll do it. Just kicking her out isn’t right. She told Jon, and the other free folk, maybe she just didn’t want to talk to Thorne, he couldn’t blame her for that. 

“That wouldn’t be in your best interests. She’s well known, where she’s from. Why do you think her people haven’t left yet?” Jon asks them. And honestly, he was just guessing the last part.

The members of the high table look at him, intrigued. 

“Well go on.” Slynt tells him.

“She asked me, soon after we first met, to make sure she could leave when she wanted. She could tell I was lying, somehow. One of her… talents, you could say. You’ve already learned another.” He nods towards them. They nod in agreement; everyone knew about her ability to ‘see’ without sight.

“She told me that she’s the daughter of her country’s president. That’s what her country calls their leader.” Jon tells them. Which was almost true, judging from what she told him of her family, and later what she told Mance about the President. He understood at that moment she wasn’t just a random girl the enemy took. He just didn’t mention they were killed; it wasn’t really a lie really, at least that’s how he justified it in his head. 

The high table shares glances between them, knowing that if true, throwing her out could potentially ire her people. And no one really knew if they could send more here or not. A few looked unconvinced though, doubtful that it mattered since there were reportedly only seventeen of them here in the first place.

“Not only that, later, when she was talking to Mance Rayder, and he was demanding he tell her more, she told him that she had the power to control storms. Since then, I’ve seen proof that she’s able to do it.” He pauses to let it sink in. Most look alarmed, Slynt looks more scared than any of them. Even Maester Aemon raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“How is this possible?” Maester Aemon asks him.

“She was a prisoner for seven years, experimented on and made to have this ability to use against her own people, before she escaped. You see, her entire world was at war, until just a week before her people came here. From the way she speaks of it, it was bad. And most likely why she didn’t want to speak to any of you. She told us some things, but never a lot at once.” Jon hopes she doesn’t mind how much he shared. She seemed to have a problem telling them, but once they knew she didn’t seem to care much, at least as far as he could tell…

“I don’t know about this. Having a strange girl with that kind of power… are you _sure_ she can do the things she claimed?” Mallister asks him next.

“She can at least control the wind. She used it when we were climbing the wall. To keep myself and a wilding girl from falling. Before that, there was almost no wind at all, she said she controls it unintentionally sometimes. That storm about a week ago? I think that was her too. She was upset at the wildlings, that’s when she decided to leave.” Jon tells them seriously, trying to get them to believe him.

“Then that makes her too dangerous to stay. Lady of princess, or, whatever her people would call her.” Thorn tells the others. Most look uncomfortable with the idea, not wanting to risk it. There was one final thing Jon could think to say…

“She told me there are four hundred million people living in her country. I don’t think its in your best interest to risk it.” Jon stares right at Thorne when he says it. Thorne gets the message and actually seems to be nervous himself now. Jon understood the feeling, it was unnerving to think there were _that many_ people from another world. 

“It’s decided then.” Maester Aemon says. “We shall offer her guest rights, and recognize her position. I will have to add this of course, when writing to the citadel. Perhaps we should further discuss, who we need to tell this information to.”

Thorne turns to look at Jon once more. “You can leave Jon Snow. Unless there’s something _more_ you want to add?”  
Jon shakes his head, and leaves. 

* * *

He finds Verona with Sam and Gilly, who’s holding little Sam in her lap. When he walks in, he notices that Verona’s hair seemed more tame, less wind struck than before, and seemed to be long enough to go behind her ears now, he couldn’t tell that before. She turns his way and stands up after he walks in.

“Jon?” She asks hesitantly.

“How’d you know?” He askes surprised.

“People walk a certain way.” She explains, a small smile on her face.

“Sam told me you were alright, but _Ser Alliser Thorne_ didn’t want me speaking with you. And I’m… I heard about your family, I’m so sorry.” Her smiles slides off her face as she speaks, her eyebrows pinch in concern. He hadn’t noticed before, but she did have an expressive face. 

Jon looks down before he can respond though, the ache he felt now almost familiar, he wondered if it would ever really go away.

“There’s nothing to be done now.” Jon says glumly, and sits next to Sam. Verona sits back down next to Gilly and little Sam.

“Verona was telling Sam about a library she went to once, in the capital. It sounds nice, she said they even let women in it too.” Gilly tells him with a genuine smile. He can see Sam smiling at Gilly sweetly as she spoke, in the corner of his eye. Even Verona smiles again hearing Gilly’s awe.

“I bet it’s as big as any here.” Jon says. “How do you find castle black so far?” He asks them.

Gilly seemed a bit more hesitant now. “It’s alright. I work in the kitchens mostly. I don’t think people here like me very much.” She admits.  
Verona looks sad hearing it.

“I haven’t had any trouble. Though I can’t actually tell if I’m getting any dirty looks or not so… ” She shrugs nonchalantly. It makes Jon remember something Tyrion Lannister once told him, about using his bastard’s name as armor, so it couldn’t hurt him. Maybe that’s why she mentions being blind so casually all the time. Though he had to admit, she could be pretty funny with it.

“I hear them calling me ‘blue lady’ for some reason. At least I think they’re referring to me.” Verona continues.

“Well sure, that’s a good name. I’ve never met anyone with blue hair before.” Gilly tells her.

Verona looks at her confused. “What?”

Gilly looks at Jon and Sam in confusion now, wondering if she wasn’t supposed to say anything, they both look confused now too, Sam gives a shrug.

“You, have blue hair.” Gilly tells her again.

“…You’re serious.” Verona says in surprise, both eyebrows raised now. She blinks a few times before giving a huff of exasperation.

“Ever since I got free, not once has anyone cared to mention that to me.” She sounded annoyed now and looked down in embarrassment it seemed, her hair falling into her face again. “I thought it was brown.” She muttered.

“It changed color then, after you were blind?” Gilly asks her, looking confused. 

“Must have… I guess it does make more sense then. As a nickname.” Verona says, sounding resigned. 

“Did you have other nicknames.” Jon asks, trying to change the subject.

Verona tilted her head to the side a bit. “Yeah, in school my friends called me Vera mostly. My brother would sometimes, but he mostly called me Vee.” 

“Vera, I like it.” Jon teases with a smile. She smiles and rolls her eyes. 

He can see Sam looking at him in the corner of his eye. Jon gives him a ‘what?’ look.

They stay for a little while, but Jon and Sam had to leave to continue with their duties, and Jon wanted to see more of his night’s watch brothers. He wasn’t sure how much time the members of the high table needed to decide things, and he wasn’t sure what they were telling the others, but he figured he should get ahead of it while he can. He also needed to figure out a strategy against the free folk that were marching this way, maybe discuss it with his friends. When he found out more, he would give Verona some warning on what they knew. 

Verona stayed with Gilly, attempted to help her with some of her work. But she wasn’t that useful unless it was pulling out feathers it turned out. She wasn’t wearing her vest at the moment, so only had a plain black shirt on. When she rolled up her sleeves to help, Gilly couldn’t help but stare at the scars she saw. She wasn’t sure what to say though, or how to ask, so she thought of something else.

“Aren’t you cold, without a coat or cloak?” She asks Verona. 

“… I am actually, a little. It’s not so bad inside though.” She tells her, after pausing to think about it though. 

“I’m sure Jon will get you one, they must have a lot of them here.” Gilly reassures her with a smile. She watches as Verona clumsily tries to de-feather the bird in her hands, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“You’ve really never done this before?” Gilly asked her intrigued.

“No… and I don’t really know how to cook either…” Verona admits to her. 

“Well its not hard. It just takes practice.” Gilly reassures her kindly.

Just then, little Sam started to cry out. Gilly wiped her hands clean before checking on the small boy, picking him up and rocking him gently. He whimpered to himself for a bit, and was starting to calm down, when a commotion could be hear outside, another door slamming maybe. He started fussing louder, letting out some louder cries. 

“I’ve been trying to keep him quiet, so the others don’t complain more about me.” Gilly tell her, sounding nervous. Verona puts down the bird she’d been attempting to de-feather, and cleaned her hands off before walking closer. 

“I used to hold my brother sometimes, when he cried… There was a song my mom and dad used to sing, I think I could hum it for him…” Verona offered, sounding hesitant. 

Gilly gave a grateful smile and asked her if she remembered how to hold him. Verona held her arms out in a cradle shape. Gilly gently corrected her, telling her to make the cradle smaller, and carefully passed over little Sam. 

Verona started to hum her song, gently rocking the small boy in her arms. He still whimpered but was growing quieter. Verona was able to hold the boy securely in one arm, little Sam holding onto her other hand, calming down, little tears outlining his eyes. Verona finished her tune, and swung the boy’s hand back and forth smiling down at him. 

She traced his face softly with one hand. “Aren’t you an adorable little guy.” She coo-ed down at him. Gilly giggled, she had gone back to working after seeing her son start to calm down. 

“Can you tell what people look like if you touch them?” Gilly asked.

“Sort of. I can guess better, and things are less fuzzy if I touch them.”

“That makes sense. You said you had a younger brother, are you trying to get back to him? Is that why you’re trying so hard to find a way back?”

Verona’s smile fades after she asks, but still lets little Sam play with her hand. 

“No. He died when he was seven. I don’t have anyone to go back to really…”

“Why go back then? I can tell you were hurt… I can see the scars on your arms. If it was a bad place, maybe you shouldn’t. Sam saved me, from a bad place. I don’t ever want to go back.”

Verona considers her for awhile. Thinking about what could happen if she stayed. Never having to go back, never having to answer for… what happened. She could be someone else here. She liked who she was in this place. It was like remembering what it was like before the bad things. Despite all the missing amenities, she hadn’t smiled this much since she was eleven… But she couldn’t run. She would be suffocated in guilt if she did. She had to try to go back, at least once.

“I’d be guilty if I didn’t try.” Verona decided to say.

* * *

Alliser Thorne was not a particularly fearful or superstitious man. He knew the white walkers existed because there had been proof. He didn’t believe there could be people from another world, until there had been proof standing in front of him. Hearing Jon Snow declare her to have _powers_ , was ridiculous, but he had to admit, Jon Snow was no liar. 

He sat alone writing, including the most important things that he had discovered. Her ‘powers’ he cited as being witnessed by only one and could be refuted. Her status though, and number of people in her country, was by far the most important. That was the information that lords and kings would want to know. 

He prepared scrolls for Kings Landing, Winterfell, Sunspear, Highgarden, Riverrun, Dragonstone, The Vale, even Casterly Rock, despite no one really being there. If these people proved to be a threat, they needed to be dealt with accordingly of course. But knowing this information could be the deciding factor to some, no doubt.  
He needed to wait for more ravens to return, but once they did, they wouldn’t get much rest from him. Maester Aemon only wanted to inform the citadel, but he couldn’t agree with that decision. 

Alliser Thorn scowled to himself, thinking of what had transpired again. Jon Snow, breaking his vows for a wildling girl, and then protecting some other girl from another world. That bastard had no loyalty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured out horizontal line divisions... sorry for the inconsistency thus far.
> 
> So, Thorne is just spreading the news everywhere, which will have consequences. I'm going to do a chapter soon on the others and what they have experienced so far. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Jon did not get to tell Verona about the information he told before she found out, unfortunately. The others she ran into called her ‘Lady Rendell’ which threw her for a loop. At least that’s what she told Jon, and he had to figure that she meant she was surprised… another odd phrase. 

He told her that he figured out who her father must have been, from what she told him in private, and what she told Mance about the war and how it started. Verona raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” She asked, bemused.

“Well, it was implied… was I wrong to assume?”

She regarded him, as much as she could without actually seeing, but looked considering. 

“My dad was in the Air Force… part of the military.” She told him, an enigmatic smile on her face though. 

“ _Fuck_ , I’ll have to tell them I was wrong.”

“You weren’t completely.” Verona tells him quickly before he could walk off. “It was my mom, actually.” Her smile was definitely amused now. 

Jon’s eyebrows raised and could feel his face heat in embarrassment. He had just assumed, but she had told them in the free folk camp about how women and men were more equal where she was from. After he had described things about his home…

“O-Oh… I’m sorry, I- I just thought…” Jon sputters out looking down.

“It’s ok. I think people back home would assume too, still. But, yeah I should have figured you’d put it together. I didn’t even think about it really… You know there’s no, ‘line of succession’ right?” 

“I know, but I neglected to mention. So, they’re addressing you as if you were. I also… didn’t mention they were killed.” He tells her more nervous now. Her smile slipped away.

“Oh… if you think its better they don’t know… I guess I trust your judgment.” She didn’t look very happy though.

“I know, I’m sorry. Really. Its just, there was talk of throwing you out, and I didn’t want that to happen. So I just… didn’t mention some things.” 

Verona ponders his words, and nods slowly. “Alright.” She says to him, giving him a small smile. 

They continue what they were doing, getting a cloak for her to wear. She looked small in it, even though she was just slightly shorter than he was, it made her shrink. Jon couldn’t keep in a small chuckle, which led to some teasing back and forth. _I don’t even have to see you to know you look ridiculous_. She had told him loftily, nose turned up at him. 

She was offered guest rights the same day too. He explained the meaning, and what she had to do. It was a formality thing, she guessed. Though it wasn’t lost on her that they only did it after they believed she was what they would consider to be nobility. 

She ate with the other members of the night’s watch that that day. They were quiet at first, with her being there, but soon enough it grew loud with conversation. She sat between Sam and Jon and met more of Jon’s closer friends. Grenn and Pyp were nice enough, they were all close from what she could tell. They were remembering the Lord Commander tonight. Sharing stories and having a toast in his honor. When Jon learned of the mutiny he was pissed, it was so unfitting a death of a man Jon considered so honorable. Like his father…

It was Sam that was the most curious about Verona, naturally. He had heard from the others about her background and wanted to know more of how her own world worked. 

It seemed that she got more curious glances throughout the night. Jon knew they must have heard about what she could do, but most didn’t think it was possible. She didn’t look particularly threatening. 

Jon noticed again how expressive she was, a twitch of her brow, her lip quirking up, he could always tell she was listening to what was going on that way.  


The looks grew more cautious though, when she told Sam her country was founded based on a revolution from kings and queens. It reminded them too much of the free folk. She seemed to tell the tension was growing, so she tried to explain.

“There were just too many people, there comes a point where that kind of system just doesn’t work anymore… Its not that I have anything against the way things are here, honest.” It seemed to work, people went on with their night quickly enough. 

Sam was still asking her things, when Jon decided to get some drinks. It was mostly just ale, but he remembered how Verona always heated up her drinks, for some reason. It didn’t take long for the water to get warm, while he got the others some ale. 

He placed them down for everyone, putting hers in front of her. She took it curiously, pausing when she noticed it was warm. She smiled to herself and gave him a quiet _thanks_. She responded to something Sam had asked.

“Its illegal, where I’m from.” She explained. Jon looked to Grenn in question. 

“Incest.” He told Jon. How they had gotten to that was strange…

“Royal lines and families.” Pyp further explained, probably because of Jon’s confused face.

“It was proven that it causes higher chances of either mental illness or hereditary diseases.” Verona told Sam, who nodded in agreement. 

“Explains a lot.” Pyp muttered. 

“Marrying under the age of eighteen isn’t really allowed either, that’s when people are considered adults, and can make those decisions.” Verona told Sam, probably in answer to something else he mentioned. 

“And how old are you?” another man called out, jokingly suggestive. Verona rolled her eyes but didn’t look unsettled. 

“I might be 21 now, I’m not actually sure…” 

She was two years older than Jon. For some reason that was surprising, she looked younger than that. Sometimes she acted younger too. But, perhaps that was because of what happened to her, Jon thought sadly. 

It was almost time to start cleaning up when someone tripped, sending some plates and cups flying to floor, and then falling himself. Quick as a flash Verona was on her feet, after flinching heavily. It looked like she was holding her breath, expecting something else to happen. 

“Are you alright?” Sam asked her concerned. 

She paused for awhile before exhaling. She nodded her head, looking down. 

“I think I’m just gonna…” She gestured to the door and left quickly after that, eyes following her leave. 

Jon exchanged a concerned glance with Sam. Gilly had told him about her scars, so he had some idea that something happened. Jon knew about her being a prisoner, and thought it had something to do with that. He decided to go check on her, nodding to his brothers before he went after her. He saw that she left tracks in the snow, heading towards the gate. 

He found her huddled under a tree, completely wrapped up in the cloak he gave her earlier.

“So, you found me in my sorry state.” She says dryly. 

“Aye. Wasn’t too difficult. You left footprints…”

“Oh…”

He hesitates a bit before sitting as well by the tree opposite hers.

“What happened in there?” He asks softly after awhile.

“I don’t like being startled, I guess. I like knowing what’s going on, because I didn’t for a long time. When unexpected things happen, it usually means there’s been an attack. I kept waiting for an explosion.” She finished with a derisive laugh. 

“Being with a lot of people you don’t know, in an unfamiliar place, and going through what you have, its understandable. There’s no shame in it.” Jon tries to reassure her. 

Verona in fiddling with her hands. But doesn’t say anything for awhile. 

“I realize that… everyone says something similar, when it happens. It’s a normal reaction, for someone like _me_. I don’t want it to be though. I keep thinking that I’ve been getting better. That I can be happy and normal again, but then something happens, something _stupid_ like plates falling down… and I know that nothing’s changed.”

She sounds so sad, looking down with her hair falling into her face. Jon looks at her sadly, thinking of what he could say that could possibly help. She was different from when he first met her though, that counted for something. 

“You’re different from when we first met. You hardly talked except to ask questions, or make a sarcastic comment. You were quiet mostly, and only stayed around a small group, but even then I could tell you were tense and on edge. You’re more relaxed now, you smile more. You still make your quips but they’re not as cutting as they used to be. Maybe you’ll always be startled by loud noises but, you have been getting better.” Jon tells her sincerely, looking thoughtfully at her.

“You might not be normal but, you can still be happy, I think.” He finishes softly. 

Verona’s hair was still in her face but she wasn’t looking down as much as before, and tilted slightly towards him. “I hope you’re right.” She says softly as well, but a bit hesitant still, as if having trouble believing it.

She sits up even straighter, regarding him now. 

“Do you miss her?”

He knew who she was refereeing to. It still sent an ache through him to think about her.

“Yes. I try not to though. I know they’re attacking. And I know I have to help stop them. I can’t think about her without wanting to run from it all.” Jon admits to her. 

“The situation is kinda fucked isn’t it…” she nods sadly at his words. His lips twitch up at her manner of speaking. 

“With what you think is coming, it would make more sense to join up. But its too late for that now isn’t it…” she asks him gently.

“Mance isn’t going to stop now. Not after everything.” Jon tells her, then thought of something else that confused him. 

“You weren’t shown… given any proof of the white walkers, but you believed it right away. Why is that?” 

She huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the tree so he could see her raised brow and crooked smile. 

“What’s one more impossible thing.” She shrugged out. “Besides, none of you were lying about it. Everyone believed it, so its likely true.” 

“And how can you tell that. How are you so sure?” Jon asked, still perplexed. 

She taps above her heart a few times. “Heartbeat. It’s a pretty reliable tell.”

He huffs out a laugh now, shaking his head in resignation. He shouldn’t be surprised by now by what she could do. They sat there for awhile, sometimes talking but mostly just sitting. 

“Do you want to go back? I’m sure there’s still people in the hall, I’ll be heading back there.” Jon asked after awhile. 

She shakes her head. “No, I think I’ll just turn in for the night. Thanks though.”

They both walked back, saying their goodnights in the courtyard, but before Jon git far Verona called out after him. 

“Hey Jon… You’re a really nice person. So, thanks I guess…” She walked off quickly after that. Jon stared after her an amused smile on his face. 

He walked back to join his brothers, who ribbed her mercilessly about running after the ‘blue lady’. He caught Thorne starring after him with distaste.

* * *

Verona was helping Gilly again, but mostly playing with the baby seeing as she wasn’t that useful there… Gilly told her the others that had been bothering her had been avoiding her since she started helping her. They think she’ll put a curse on them or something. _Nice. Now I know I’m super helpful._ Verona had said jokingly.

She had her sleeves rolled up again, no vest. Gilly had asked her if she’d be more comfortable in a skirt instead of pants. Verona was going to stay no but, when she thought about it, she hadn’t worn a dress in a long time, it might be fun… She also might trip though. 

Before she got a chance to reply, Jon and several others burst in. Verona was sitting by little Sam, and looked up in question. Gilly, who spotted Sam, made a questioning face, he just gestured towards Verona.

“There’s two people here, they say they’re from another world, and are looking for others.” Jon tells her. 

Verona stands swiftly, eyes wide, grabs her cloak that’s set down close by, and starts towards the door. Jon can’t help but notice the pale scars on her arms, they stuck out from her tan skin. The few others by the doorway move aside for her and Jon moves to follow her.

Gilly looks surprised but excited, wanting to see more people from Verona’s world. Maybe they would have different color hair too. She grabs little Sam while Sam waits by the door for her.

* * *

Tywin Lannister held a letter in his hands, reading it silently. He tossed it down on his desk with a huff. Unforeseen complications were arising in the capital, ever since the display above the city occurred. More fanatics arising, getting bolder with their declarations. The _others_ had been here a year, and had not left as they originally claimed they would. 

From what Varys had managed to find out from his informants in Barrowton, they couldn’t replicate what had happened, not without help. Varys had told him they were wanting information on more people that were with the other part of their… _ship_. Someone that was in it could help them. It was not specified how. Or who. 

Well, now he knew. After hearing reports on the sight above the city, someone with the powers this note claimed could influence the city greatly, though they did not know it. The people in king’s landing either hated the mention of the others, or they claimed them so be a gift, some sort of divine intervention. Unfortunately, the opinion was also divided between the rich and poor, with the later claiming the event to be some sign of great change. 

Already there were some minstrels in the city, claiming to have met the people, and learned songs from them. Silly little things that irritated Tywin to no end. If word got out, even the smallest whisper, that a person could influence the sky, it would not amount to anything good for his family. The people might be fed now, thanks to the Tyrells, but they had not been settling down as expected. It was high time to stop trying to treat with these other people, they were careful with the information they gave. 

In the whole time they’ve been there, they have only mentioned one country they were from, that a war recently ended, and they wanted to get home. They would not describe their army, or the weapons they might have. They did not get involved in any fighting, as agreed upon, but they were clear that they didn’t support anyone either. 

The rest of the information he had was in songs. Which preoccupied the members of the citadel but were of no use to Tywin. It was a clever distraction, for foolish people. 

It was time to take care of them. When they’re wiped from Westeros, the people of the city will soon learn that they were nothing but a fluke. That they weren’t sent to change everything. They never should have existed here in the first place.

He would order the Frey’s and the Bolton’s to attack the crash site these people had been staying at. And hunt down this, girl with blue hair, and ensure all of the others were gone. It would need to be done fast, before word could spread to more people. He was not the only one to receive this information. The night’s watch wouldn’t send this to just him after all.

* * *

“Did I not tell you my king, that these people bring with them great power? That they could be useful allies?” The red woman coed out in Stannis’ ear. 

Ser Davos regarded them uncomfortably before turning back to the letter, he could only read it very slowly, and soon enough realized just what the red woman meant.  


It had been a unanimous agreement throughout Westeros, that the _other people_ would not be called upon to join a side. They shouldn’t even exist, and it made most lords very uncomfortable to think about. Having them as allies would be seen as an insult to the lords who have lived in Westeros for centuries. Yet still, the red woman often mentioned sending envoys to them, befriending them. Somehow she had known…

After receiving word from the wall about the threat of the white walkers not long before, and preparing the fleet and army to travel north, Davos had forgotten about the others for a time. They weren’t causing problems, the most they had done was share songs. They didn’t seem to like talking specifics, but where very good with distractions. He had heard a few tunes himself and admitted they could be very catchy. 

The others only definite statement to Westeros being that they are working on getting home. Which sounded fair enough to him. 

“Someone in the snow as well, someone helping ensure victory. They will help you fight the darkness, that is why they have come here. The lord has reached into the night itself and brought us aid. We must try and find the one this letter speaks of. Her role is to help you, I know it.”

Stannis was listening carefully to her. Davos know he would listen, he always did when the red woman persuaded him so, with fate and destiny. 

“I’ll send a raven to them. Let them know of the threat in the north. Give them a chance to join us in the fight before it consumes everyone.” Stannis decided firmly.  


Davos couldn’t help but wonder if these other people would even care.

* * *

Roose Bolton starred at his son Ramsey, who was reading the letter he received not long ago. They had already decided to send a man to the wall to kill Jon Snow, this seemed like a perfect opportunity to eliminate another threat. That or keep her as a hostage. 

Lord Bolton had stopped at the crash site himself, on his way back north. They were a defensive group, any who met them could tell they were soldiers. They outright refused to speak with him, or offer him information, though he had heard rumors they carried great weapons with them. The news of the red wedding had spread to the town nearby, and they recognized his name. 

The distain and distaste was visible, he would not forget it. If the Lannister’s received word of this as well, which he no doubt assumed they would soon, he fully expects men to be sent to wipe them out. As for the girl, the daughter of their leader, she could make a great bargaining tool against them if need be.  


Judging from the fascinated look on his bastard’s face, he wanted to keep her, not kill her. 

The man they decided to send would need to be informed of this new objective. Hopefully, he would receive word of a death and a capture in a months’ time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more sweet moments happening. They're just friends at the moment still, but clearly have a connection.
> 
> Also, some ramifications for the information being shared, some different perspectives on what is learned. I don't think Daenerys would be aware yet of this new information. Hearing rumors of people falling from the sky are vague across the narrow sea, like the rumors of dragons being born in Westeros were just rumors for a long time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring the idea of what would happen should people arrive in Westeros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is showing what has been going on with the other people who have arrived here, while Verona was beyond the wall mostly. It also leads up to where the story is presently.

**One month after the crash:**

The forest the airship crashed in had a scar through it now. Looking from above, it was clear where the thing hit, and how far it went. It could have been worse… the experimental device that malfunctioned was supposed to form a tunnel through space, giving them some protection at least, but it also ended up tearing the ship apart. Captain Leonard was looking at the crash site silently from a small hill, thinking of the events that led up to this. Thinking of the impossibility of it all.

People had come to investigate, but not a crash crew, no ambulances or even fire departments had arrived. They were over the ocean when this happened, so he was completely unsure of where they were. The instruments were either completely destroyed, or not working due to the lack of power. No one on the crew knew how to read stars… it was such an old-fashioned skill these days, but one that would have been helpful perhaps. 

No the people that had shown up were skittish, and looked at them as if they had never seen an airship crash. Which by now, all corners of the world would be familiar with them. Finding out where they were proved to be difficult. But even when they started to get answers, nothing made sense. 

The experimental device was being made as a means on an instant strike on the enemy. No sensors or warning systems could detect a tunnel through reality itself. Bombs could be sent, troops and airships, right inside an enemy base with any guards against them. It was part of the back and forth that had been happening for years, even before the war. 

New improved weapons and targeting systems, new and improved safeguards to negate those weapons. Of course, the device was never completed, it never fully worked and the war was won without it. They ended up with the person that had been used against them so effectively. 

After talking with the one crew member who survived that was familiar with the device, a somewhat believable conclusion was reached. After experiencing some turbulence in the air, the device was triggered. Straightforward so far. Instead of opening a tunnel to a predetermined location as it was meant to, it opened a tunnel to an alternate reality, or parallel universe. 

Something different happened in the past of this place, causing a different world to form, but still, they thought it was Earth. It was the only explanation that would explain the common language, and other impossible similarities. 

The captain observed the surrounding area, Barrowton to the west, where the first people to stay and talk to them were from. They promised to stay in their area for the time being and promised no ill intentions. They notably did not promise the same which made the Captain weary. They noticed a patrol almost every day get close, but not approach them. 

He looked north then, where the other part of the ship went, without the protection of the device, and with the one person that could help power it back on. The one person that they were taking back to D.C., who had ended the war, who had… done something unexplainable. They didn’t discuss it. 

He looked down at his military issued cell phone. It had been a month since the crash, and even to longest battery life there could be and turning it off for long periods couldn’t keep it alive forever. There was only encrypted communication technology in this one, with some pictures saved. Civilian technology wasn’t allowed due to the tracking capabilities their enemies had. 

He looked at it sadly while the red low battery symbol flashed in the corner. His partner and their daughter smiled up at him. He tried to memorize their faces as best he could. Who knew how long it would be until they could get back? 

He had to believe that they could though. They had the device. They just needed to get it to happen again. The screen went dark. He stared at it for a few more moments before putting it in his pocket.

He saw a group approaching through the trees, a group of maybe ten, holding a white flag as they approached. He started walking down, back towards the crash site where they had set up camp. If this was a more official party, he needed to brief his crew on just how much to tell them. If he had learned anything, he knew that giving an unknown place like this even the slightest reason to be afraid or nervous they would move to eliminate the threat.

* * *

Apparently the group represented a place called the Citadel, and brought with them several letters from different leaders of this place. All of them including some warning on what would happen should they choose sides, and should they cause any disturbance… the most overt threat came from the capital city. Although some letters addressed them facetiously, like they didn’t think they existed. They started with “ _To the supposed people who fell out of the sky…_ ”

Their official response was to formally acknowledge the threat made against them, declare themselves neutral in all their conflicts, promise not to harm the people of Westeros, and state the only goal they had was to get home. But he also included the fact that they would defend themselves if pushed. It wouldn’t do to be pushed around so quickly. 

These Maesters were sent to learn about them, and to explain Westeros. It was helpful to learn more, and to actually see a map.

They asked for more information on the other part of their ship, but it could be weeks to get a response from the north they were told. It made him miss the instant communication he was used to… their military issued cells where mostly destroyed, the ones that weren’t broken weren’t capable of sending messages at the moment. There was only two that they left turned off, the three others were dead, like his own. No way to charge them. 

They were being worked on to connect to each other without a satellite signal… They had the radios in the airship that he had assigned a team to, to try and convert them into a two-way communication device. It wasn’t exactly going spectacular. It was something to work on at least. Despite them not having power.

Though they were all seasoned soldiers at this point, they were still used to certain technologies and standards of living. Some people were better at camping than others, to put it plainly. They didn’t have much in terms of food either. Only one man knew how to make snares and traps, but a few rabbits weren’t enough to feed seventeen people. The Captain had ordered his crew to not use their weapons after realizing what environment they were in, he did not want to draw attention to that.

A crew member had explained alternate realities and parallel universes to the Citadel group, who all took notes studiously. That was as much as he had given leave to explain at that time. He still wanted to learn about this place before revealing more. They also helped with their more injured crew, which did let the Captain warm up to them more. He didn’t want to bury anyone else. 

As the weeks went by, and their supplies were running even lower, the Captain needed to make the call to gather their things, and start to sell them to the merchants in Barrowton. They had consulted with the Citadel group on what would be useful, and also requested their help to get into town in the first place. It helped that they were respected in this country. 

They mostly brought with them different cloths and under-armors that were designed to keep you cool in the heat… those were useless to them now but apparently people were very interested. Some jewelry a few people had, mostly traditional commemorative bracelets, some had medals on their jackets that they were willing to part with. 

In any case, it made relations with the town slightly better. It reassured people to know what happened was an accident, and they didn’t have any grand schemes. They probably believed them because they were so clueless. The Captain may have asked people to play it up to appear unassuming… 

There was one merchant in particular they ended up traded with, who had a wife and three kids, a boy and two girls. They had found someone selling cloaks and were trading with them when Lothor came across them. 

“You don’t trade much, where you’re from?” He asked them, staring at their new cloaks with amusement. 

Apparently, they were pretty bad quality… they seemed thick but didn’t keep heat in well at all, and others would have bought what they gave the other merchant for a lot more than what they got in return. Captain Leonard shoved the cloaks in Everett’s arms, he was the one who got swindled after all. They were his now. 

Lothor gave them fair payment, but still not the most they could get. But it was understandable, he had to make a profit too. At least the quality of his goods were better. Its not like they were planning on staying here, so if the man was making a small fortune off them, well, good for him. 

He had decided soon after the Maester got there to not mention the amount of people back home. They mentioned a war that ended, but not the scope of it. He did his best to portray a retired veteran vibe, the people here seemed to respect that. 

They only mentioned their country, not the others. They mentioned at lot of the most popular stories, they said were plays and not movies. He recommended older ones with similar values as this place… It took a while to describe all six Star Wars trilogies, it preoccupied a lot of their time, and he told the Citadel members it was vital in understanding their culture, which wasn’t exactly false. They often devolved into long philosophical debates, which steered them clear of specifics at least. That and they played music. 

There were a few people in the crew who knew how to play instruments, and between them all, they knew a lot of songs. Though he asked them to stow the edgy shit they came up with. They needed to portray a non-combative atmosphere. They played some older Beetles songs, and John Lennon’s Imagine did very well in town. Some minstrels had actually put it down for themselves to play too. 

Having the next conversation with the women on his crew was awkward to say the least. But they had all picked up on the society here. The brothels in town were very blatant with their… displays. He simply told them don’t hesitate to ask anyone to accompany them if they felt unsafe. But he wouldn’t order them to stay with a man, that would be crossing a line. Laureen had given him a look, that clearly meant, _I can handle myself better than you can, what are you worried about._ Still, it needed to be acknowledged how backwards this place seemed to be…

After a while, the members of the Citadel didn’t need to travel with them for them to be admitted into town. So that was progress in Captain Leonard’s eyes.  
It almost became a tradition, they sent a group there at the end of the week and got some coin by selling things and playing some songs, and it supplied them for the week. It was becoming more well known they were here, people would come to town to see if they were ‘real’. It was a big thing in the Capital apparently, most common folk thought that they weren’t real. Not that they minded that, it made things less tense for them.

They even became more familiar with a few of the ‘lords’ of the place. Though, there were still a lot of the upper class that seemed to either be scarred of them or hate them… 

Lothor had explained it to him. It was the fact that they interacted with the common people and not the lords that was considered unorthodox. Also the fact they still haven’t formally recognized the lords’ authority made people uncomfortable in town. It seemed simple enough to rectify the situation, with Lothor’s help. He acted as a sort of liaison at times, explaining to the lords the customs were simply different, but they had proven themselves a respectful bunch. The captain liked the guy.  
Respect and honor were a big part of their culture from what was gathered, so that was how he wanted his people to be perceived. Spreading only stories of mutual values. Unfortunately, it was known they didn’t have a feudal system due to the explanation to the lords that was given, but they did their best to relate to what they could.

The Captain couldn’t say relations were all flowers and daisies and shit, but they were respectful to each other, and for now, it was enough. They didn’t have information on the rest of the world, everything seemed very closed off outside of Barrowton.

When they finally got more information from the Maesters, it wasn’t much to go on. Just that the other part of their ship had been spotted going over a wall. No report on survivors at all. It left him in a bit of a conundrum. 

He could either wait for more information or send a team north to investigate themselves. The Citadel group had been trying to persuade him to let a few people travel with them to Old Town, and perhaps show them more of the World. But he couldn’t sanction the trip, not when progress on the device was so uncertain. Some days seemed like there was progress, and hope, but some days went very wrong. A few almost explosions had put them all on edge.

The months went by with growing tension. It was clear from some of the letters they received that they were expected to have left by now. After checking up on the device that day, it was clear that there just wasn’t a reliable power source that could be used to test the thing. It was too volatile, and it needed to be tested before use. Not doing that was out of the question. 

Some of his men had been loosing hope. As much as he tried to make sure they were tight lipped about it around others, some people were sharing a bit too much in town. About how they didn’t actually know how to get back, there might be one person who could help but who knew if they were alive. The person that said this was not allowed to go into town anymore when he heard, needless to say. 

There were some things though, that the Captain didn’t catch. Such as the engineer working on the device venting to a Maester, who had someone taking notes for him close by. They were explaining the fact that there was an option of returning home, a ‘back button’ so to speak. But actually getting back to Westeros specifically wasn’t possible. They didn’t have the ability to make what the engineer called, ‘an anchor’. So, learning about survivors was important, especially one. After which the engineer realized his mistake, they weren’t supposed to mention Verona to them exactly. 

And if the Maester’s assistant was an informant who was part of the spymaster’s web, well, the Captain never figured that out. Too concerned with the potential hostilities that were closest to him, and not far away. 

The only reassurance was the ammo and guns they had still intact. There was even a single flamethrower that somehow survived. They all carried their handguns, but the larger rifles were kept under lock and key. They hadn’t explained what the handguns were, exactly. They had purchased crossbows to hunt with, to save their ammo and to not call attention to them. 

The Captain needed to talk to Everett. He found him using his military issued knife to whittle what might have been a fork?

“We need to talk.” He told him directly. Everett looked up at him, curious but knowing somewhat what was going to be asked. 

“You were a member of her guard. You know her best out of anyone here. Do you think she’s alive? And if she is… do you think she would be stable enough to help?”  
“If anyone could survive it would be her. She would find a way. If it were before, I’d say she would be trying to get south and find us if she could, but now… I’d have to see her to determine if she’s stable or not.” Everett tells him thoughtfully. 

This was the closest they had come to acknowledging what had happened. 

He would talk with the others tonight, about sending a group to look for her. She could act as a power source for them maybe? The possibility was better than nothing. She was the key to helping them get home before they died of old age. 

The group from town was returning, but something was different this time. Captain Leonard walked briskly to meet them, counting how many there were just in case something had happened. 

“Captain, we’ve heard of a horrible act not far from here. They’re calling it the Red Wedding. Some of the soldiers from Barrowton were slaughtered, they’re calling for a resistance towards the betrayers.”

_Shit._ The fighting hadn’t been near them since they’d been there, this was too close. 

Yet another reason to send people north, they needed to get out of this place. Even if it meant finding _her_. 

The campfire was silent. After the events of the red wedding were shared with the group, no one wanted to speak. They had known their fare share of atrocities, but the quality of this was disturbing to say the least. It felt much more personal, they hadn’t felt like this since _she_ was a prisoner, and no one liked to be reminded of those things done to her. 

One thing was certain, they didn’t want to deal with people who would betray allies like this, that would stab a pregnant woman in front of the father, and then kill the man in front of his mother. No matter he was considered a king, it was a cruel thing to do, and disturbing to hear. 

The members of the Citadel where staying in town at the moment. So, they had this time to plan out what they were going to do. There had been no news of survivors in the north, but information traveled slowly here. The more he thought about it, the more Captain Leonard was convinced he had to send a team north.  
If they didn’t make progress soon, they would be pulled into the conflicts of the land here, he was sure of it. He had heard rumors of religious groups that were growing increasingly interested in them, the last thing he wanted was to become the obsession of fanatics. 

Opening up the discussion on the floor, it seemed like the consensus was they needed to send their own people north to find out more. The next problem was deciding who would go, and how many people. If they were going to tell the Citadel members, who, bless their hearts, where trying so hard to be involved with them.  
“It needs to be a small group. Less than four. We need to try to blend in, be unassuming.”

“What if we do find people, it’ll be a larger group, people would know we were lying coming back. If we find _her_ , they’ll know… She’s pretty noticeable.”  
“So, we don’t lie. We send a small group but be clear, we’re only looking for our survivors. But if they don’t ask…”

“Only two people should go. More than a single person but, if all six are alive, it could make people nervous. They don’t like more than five people at a time in town.”  
“So, who’s going with Everett.” The last statement was made jokingly. Only a few people chuckled. Because it was serious, Everett was obviously going to have to go. Everett’s face remained impassive at the moment. 

“I’ll go with him.” Laureen spoke up. She and Everett had known each other vaguely from before, she convinced him to help and join the team when they were preparing to travel back to D.C., they seemed to be close friends now. 

They look at the Captain. He looks at Laureen, who’s unwavering. Then at Everett, who nods once to him. 

“We’ll get supplies for you, and horses. You’ll leave in a week.” He told them.

* * *

Traveling north wasn’t bad at first, especially with the horses allowing them to travel fairly quickly. They had supplies, Laureen was good with a crossbow so hunting wasn’t a problem. Everett had experience tracking animals from before the war, he was from the country after all. Laureen was a quick study and was always a crack shot. She had been fiddling with the crossbow they had with them, thinking of adding a nob on the side, with some gears underneath for the tension, to pull back instead of using her hands. 

Everett spent his evenings trying to whittle some gears for her to try out. But they would probably have to be metal for it to really work. There was a lot of tension in the string after all. Some others, including himself, had been trying out bows, but they were just too different from what they were used to. Crossbows were just an easier transition. 

They had been told by the captain to avoid the main road when possible, and to avoid Winterfell in particular. They had a map with them and were doing their best to navigate but it was slow going in that department. They’re weren’t used to navigating like this. 

Not to mention it was getting colder. They could layer their cloths easily enough, their uniforms were loose enough that it wasn’t much of a problem, but certainly not what they were used to. The winters hadn’t brought snow in so long, they had forgotten what it had looked like. And this was only the Fall season for them? Even traveling throughout the last seven years, there had only been a handful of locations that were cold. And that was only compared to the sweltering weather that was considered normal now. 

Everett brought the cloaks he had bought, and to his embarrassment, he realized that they really _were_ terrible quality. It made them more unassuming though so… they made do. 

One evening though, as they were getting closer to what was called ‘The Wall’, and a base called Castle Black, Laureen confronted him.

“What do you really think about what happened. Out of everyone, you should be the most upset, the most betrayed. You actually knew her. But you’re not. You’re worried about her.” 

Everett stops the whittling he was doing. Looking down. He knew Laureen had some idea of how he was feeling, but he didn’t think she’d outright ask. He should have known better, she was always direct. 

“It just, doesn’t feel like something she would do without a reason.” He tells her. 

“And you think she had a reason.” Laureen asks, voice hard as she stares at him.

He sighs and shakes his head in frustration. “I don’t know.”

“If you have any doubts at all you need to tell me, and you need to tell me now.” 

She wasn’t asking. 

“It’s just… I knew her, since almost the moment she woke up after escaping. I was part of her original guard. She was a mess. The cameras didn’t show it but, she was much worse than they let on. Paranoid and constantly having panic attacks. She would lash out sometimes, but she never used her powers. She refused to use them. She was getting better though. She really was. And she always played her part… so to speak. She was good at predicting what they would do, and how to stop them…  
“And what she did… it doesn’t make sense for her, out of nowhere. I still don’t think she’ll hurt me. Or you. She didn’t fight back when she was being taken to her trial. She should have had a problem with being confined, but she already accepted it. I can’t help but feel that there’s something we don’t know. And yet… Of course I feel betrayed. I feel like if I see her I’ll loose it sometimes. I just… don’t know.”

He was using his knife to sharpen a stink he found on the ground now instead of his previous project. Frustrated for not knowing anything definite. But not wanting to admit just how much he believed something else was going on with her. He couldn’t fully believe it though, not with the circumstances that occurred at the final ceremony they held for the ending of the war. 

“Do you think there was a reason, or do you just _want there_ to be a reason?” Laureen challenged him. 

“I don’t know, Laureen.” He snapped, throwing down the stick he was carving to pieces to the ground. 

“Well, you have to have sort of plan if we find her.” She changes the topic slightly, but was still to the point.

“A plan?” Everett gives her a look. 

“Do you ever think you plan out too much?”

“No.” 

“… We should ignore it probably. To get her to come with us and help. She can be… jumpy.” Everett decides. 

“You really think that’s going to happen. If we find her, we’ll be traveling all this again. You _really_ think we won’t talk about it.” Laureen asks incredulously.

“We already don’t talk about it.” Everett points out. 

“If she’s not as jumpy as you think she’s gonna be, what then? What if _she_ wants to talk about it?”

“Then I guess we’ll talk about it. What do you want me to say, huh?”

“You don’t think she’s guilty and you won’t tell me why. Maybe she will.”

“It’ll be better hearing it from her anyway… So we find a place away from people and ask? Wait for her to start?”

“You’re the one who knows her.”

“…If she mentions something alluding to it then I’ll ask… I can’t promise I won’t lose my cool though.”

He gets up and gets his bag and pulls out his bedroll, clearly done talking for the night. Leaving Laureen with the first watch. 

~

The did need to stop at some smaller towns on the way. They did their best to not stay long, and to talk as little as possible, their accents usually causing suspicion at least. But it so happened that during a storm, they had to stay at a tavern for the night, having already been caught there before it started downpouring. It so happened that the owner was already suspicious of who they were. 

They were on edge most of the evening, but the owner did eventually come over to talk, and told them to stop expecting a fight to break out, otherwise it would actually happen. It was said jokingly enough, but they still were uncomfortable. 

“You know, if you don’t want people to tell you’re from… a long way from here, you might consider wearing different boots?” He pointed out to them. “Even up here there have been some descriptions of what you wear. Not many, mind you, but some. And boots covered with laces is an odd thing to see.”

“We’re not trying to hide exactly, just being discrete.” Everett explained. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Of course you don’t. I’ve owned this place long enough to recognize the folks wanting a fight.” The owner told them, still with a teasing tone. 

“I’ve heard, that you folk have some entertaining ability.” He continued, looking fascinated. One of the few people they had met who seemed so, who wasn’t a Maester. 

“…We know a lot of songs from home I suppose…” Laureen said carefully. 

“Well, if you feel inclined, striking up a tune here would give myself quite the reputation. I’d give you room and board free of charge of course.” The owner offered them, sounding excited. 

Everett and Laureen looked at each other for a bit, communicating silently. 

“It’s an interesting offer, but we can’t stay long, and to draw a crowd the weather would have to be nicer. If we come back this way, we might consider it sir.” Everett tells him.

“Ser! I’m no ser, just a tavern keeper. The offers stands should you return. Enjoy your night then.” He let them be after that. They shared incredulous looks.  
Everett and Laureen both had played at Barrowton a bit, Everett had played the drums since he was a boy, while Laureen had learned guitar the last seven years during the war. Not that there were guitars here, but there were similar instruments at least. They didn’t expect other places would welcome them so easily though. Perhaps it was just the one man who was different. Most people they met had cold looks, and an unwelcoming nature. 

The night passed uneventfully, and they continued on their way in the morning.

They were getting close; they could see the wall in the distance now. They wound up going too far west though, and had to go east, looking for the inhabited castle they were told about. It was quite a site, there wasn’t anything they could compare it to back home. They often exchanged glances when looking at it, just to reaffirm the other is seeing it too.

They see another fort in the side of the ice up ahead. This must be it, there was actual signs of inhabitants in this one. Smoke rising, and a path that was worn leading in. They exchange another glance before squaring their shoulders and approaching, making their horses walk a bit faster.

* * *

A small group of men were cowering on the forest floor, hands in the air like the others had told them. The person in charge, called by the others as Captain, approached them. 

“Who ordered this attack?” He asks them, voice hard.

“Our lords requested it. Lord Bolton.” One answered, on the verge of tears.

“Who does he take orders from?” 

“H – he is in an alliance with the Lannister’s!” another squeaks out. 

The men are looking around them, the weapons the others had were death itself, and pointed directly at them. There were only seventeen of them. A group of a hundred and fifty should have been more than enough to wipe them out. But their weapons… they had no idea how deadly they were. They dropped like flies while thunder filled the air. They thought arrows would be the best way to attack first before moving in, but after two people dropped, their response was devastating.  
The others are talking quietly now, looking disgruntled and angry. Finally, the Captain turns back to them.

“Go back to your lords, or your homes, wherever you wish. Tell them about what happened here. Tell them not to try again. We’ll bury the dead. Should their families wish to visit their graves they can. We won’t attack first, but you’re damn well sure we’ll defend ourselves.” He nods towards another, who has come back with a note they had written.

“I do request that one of you deliver this to the Lannister who ordered this.” It didn’t sound like a request. He approached the first man who spoke. 

“You’ll do this won’t you?” He told him. 

The man nods his head quickly. 

The Captain signals to his men, they lower their weapons. He gives them all a hard stare before telling them to get on their way quickly. They took off immediately after that.

Most were in awe that they were alive and let go so easily. Not even taken prisoner, just sent off right away. They were fierce people, with terrifying weapons, but even still they seemed too trusting. No one just lets people go. None of them wanted to face them again, but more would be sent now, they were sure of it. Once their lords knew, once kings landing knew, they would be a larger target. But perhaps, there was the smallest chance they would be left alone. No one in the group who was sent away really believed it though.

* * *

When Roose Bolton had gotten the letter from Tywin Lannister to kill the people near Barrowton, he hadn’t been surprised. He had already sent a group to assess what they could do. He had heard varying reports of their abilities, but it could be agreed by everyone, that no one was sure how they fought. When Tywin Lannister included that it was very strongly believed that, despite the other worlders’ county had so many people, they didn’t have a way of getting to Westeros. Which was reassuring at least, but still, Lord Bolton wasn’t sure if he was right. Having the blue lady would be a safeguard just in case, while the Lannister’s were left to deal with anyone who got here again somehow. 

Lord Bolton couldn’t help but wonder how things must be in the capital, if Tywin was willing to take this risk.

Sending a group there directly served two purposes. Either they did as they told and were able to get rid of all the people, or they failed, after which Lord Bolton would have to go with the second plan. Either way, he would know more about what they could do than Tywin. 

He had already apprehended the group from the Citadel, away from Barrowton. They had betrayed House Dustin of Barrowton at the Red Wedding, so he didn’t want to cause open hostilities, at least so soon. However, the back up plan would require them. So, they would have to accept their presence none the less.  
Lord Bolton scowled at the men in front of him. They had run here after their ill fated attack over a week ago. The only survivors they said… He decided there were no survivors. He stared at the men with him, and told them as such. They got the message and killed them quickly. 

“Cowards that fled at the fist sight of something unusual. Don’t believe a word of it.” He ordered his men. 

This couldn’t get back to the Lannister’s after all. Their relation was new and tenuous at best right now because of the presence of these other people. This was a chance for a more solid alliance. Even if what these soldiers said were true, it couldn’t be spread around. It was more than he expected to learn, the fact that they were able to kill two of them before they could retaliate was very reassuring. The most ostentatious of reports said they were immortal. 

They shouldn’t have let his men go, he could move in quicker now, with a better strategy. One that allowed them all to be targeted at once, so they couldn’t retaliate. And, getting these weapons that were so powerful. 

They had stronger ties in town than was wanted, he should make it known to them the consequences for siding with outsiders. Isolate them completely perhaps, weaken them like they would a normal stronghold. 

That would take too long though. He had been working out who they were close to in town already, Lord Bolton would make them join him instead. He would make sure all the Others’ guards were lowered before striking. Giving them the chance to target all of them at once. The Red Wedding might have been distasteful to most people in the north, but it was effective in its results. 

Perhaps a detour from his plans was necessary. He could be very persuasive in person. 

He told his men to get ready to go to Barrowton. 

Lord Bolton regarded the note in his hand, addressed for the Lannister’s. No doubt a warning of what would happen if they try again. They must have thought it would work if they let so many people go. They were fools. He threw the note in the fire.

* * *

One soldier was running, the adrenaline in his veins keeping him going. He didn’t want to go back to the Bolton’s, he wanted to return home. Like the others had told him he could. 

As soon as someone had dropped their weapons in surrender, they passed by them, only telling him to keep low and shut up until the fight was done. Which was not long. He could see the anger in their eyes, but still, they didn’t make a move to hurt him. He saw what Lord Bolton could do, and would do to his men who he thought failed him. He couldn’t risk it. 

He knew his cousin was one of Lord Glover’s men, perhaps after visiting home, he would fight for a new lord…

* * *

The High Sparrow did not like the new songs these people from the sky brought with them. The most popular with the common folk being something about, Imagining no religion? No, that did not sit well with him, and his plans. 

He had been telling the devout to not believe everything they hear from travelers, who would do anything to earn a few more coins in their pockets. They haven’t seen themselves, why follow the words of others so carelessly. It wasn’t like how the seven were shown to be in their lives. The mercy of the mother could be seen daily. 

So no, he didn’t want the common folk of King’s Landing to acknowledge these strange people. No matter how harmless they were trying to seem, they were disrupting his gain in influence. Soon, Lancel Lannister would confess, as they all did, and join them. If he did not have the full support of the people, it would be more difficult for his power to grow. 

But the fact that things were so chaotic also helped him. People wanted to be reassured, wanted to believe in the gods more now than ever, to explain the scene in the sky. He was using that to his advantage quite well. The crowds gathering to listen to him grew every day. 

There are no people from the sky. He repeated it often throughout the day, whenever he heard someone mention it. Sounding gently chiding and carefully condescending. Making sure his sparrows repeated it too, it slowly began to work. 

More doubt was thrown into existence at the very least. That was all he needed. They could doubt every other thing that existed, as long as the believed in him alone.  
King Joffery would be wed soon, who was widely disliked. He had a feeling, his own rise in power would come soon.

* * *

Captain Leonard looked at what remained of the ammunition. It wasn’t much, not enough for the weapons they had. He was thinking it was time to take apart and destroy a portion of the rifles they couldn’t really use anymore. 

He was prepared for a confrontation with either the Citadel members or the people of Barrowton after the attack had occurred. But no one had come. They had traveled to town and not met any resistance. The town was almost a full days travel away so, maybe they didn’t hear. They couldn’t find the Citadel group at all though. 

A few weeks passed, in nervous silence, waiting to hear more. But it was odd, it was like the town was getting friendlier towards them. Lothor had always been kind, but the lords now too, seemed welcoming. It was the lord of House Dustin, the main people in charge as far as he could tell, that eventually gave them the letter they had received weeks ago now. Seeing as the Citadel group wasn’t around to deliver things to them anymore.

She had been found. At the place he had sent his crew-members to. The only one it seemed. It was a relief, he knew his people would be getting there soon, and returning, if they hadn’t already. It was difficult to tell how long a journey it was exactly. They could be on the return trip, halfway back perhaps?

They invited them all to a celebration of sorts, as a potential farewell party maybe? It was odd, they didn’t know what to make of it. The people here had always valued honor, at least as far as they could tell. They had known them for awhile now, it would be considered a bad thing if they betrayed them. And then, Lothor himself had said it was a fine idea, wanting to partake himself. His own crew was happy to celebrate, regaining hope that they lost for a long time now. 

Maybe it would be better to invite them to their own camp. So that they would have protection right away… it couldn’t hurt to celebrate a bit. Lothor was vouching for these people, and he trusted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter serves to explain what has been happening so far in Westeros. Maybe what would happen to an actual group of people. Also disclaimer, I'm not in the military I'm only guessing how they would act. It was something fun to think about in any case, hope you enjoyed in too!
> 
> Also, the attack on them took place very shortly after Everett and Laureen left them, so this has been going on while they traveled. 
> 
> Because of all the confusion in King’s landing, I think it would give the high sparrow an opportunity to take control earlier in the mess. People are more inclined to listen to religion at that point. 
> 
> As a consequence for singing one particular song to appear peaceful and nonthreatening in town (John Lenin’s ‘Imagine’), that some people happened to especially like and learn to teach others, the high sparrow decided to deny the existence of the other people. 
> 
> Perhaps Tywin will get involved with the sparrows because of this?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two others have arrived at Castle Black now, lets see how it goes.

There were two people by horses in the courtyard, both wearing similar cloths but cloaks that looked like they had bartered for from the first person they found. The man was tall and well-muscled, with sandy brown hair and the beginnings of a beard growing in. His skin was tan, though not as much as Verona’s. The woman next to him wasn’t as tall but was heavy set and looked strong. She had a stern face, and dark brown skin and black hair. She looked around the courtyard carefully, assessing the place. 

They both wore sturdy looking black boots but covered in odd lacings up the front that made them look strange. Cheap looking pants and layered tunics to go with it.  


When Jon thought on it, there was no way a raven could have flown south to them, and people could have traveled north in response so fast. They must have already been on their way but had kept it concealed. There wasn’t a response yet, so it was unclear if the group the Citadel sent was very informed. 

When they arrived there, Jon suspected who they were, from the way they looked around, not in awe exactly but assessing, and searching. They didn’t appear to be carrying any swords, but the woman was carrying a crossbow with her. The man reminded him of Jamie Lannister, the way he stood exuded a certain confidence. At least he didn’t have that irritating smirk. 

They said they were with the group that crashed in the south. They were requesting information they might have about other survivors in the north. The night’s watch members looked at each other, whispers shared. One told them to wait there. Jon rushed to find Verona.

The woman was still looking around carefully when Verona walked out, the man was the one to spot her on the steps.

“Rendell?” He called out to her. She paused when she heard him, surprise on her face, then continued down. The woman now regarding her, but still carefully. 

“Everett? I didn’t know you were in the ship.” She looks concerned, and a bit confused. 

“It was last minute.” His tone was clipped. 

The others were starting to gather, Jon could see Thorne starting to approach. 

“Who might you be?” Thorne demands.

“Everett Campbell.” 

“Laureen Hughs.”

They both sound tense, but there’s a formality in the way they’re standing, and introduce themselves. Recognizing the authoritative tone no doubt. 

“We’re here for her.” Everett motions towards Verona. 

The others are murmuring around them, talking about more of _them_ being at Castle Black now. 

Thorne looks at them with a guarded expression. As acting lord commander, he was responsible for upholding formalities. And since they had given Verona guest rights, they needed to be extended for her people. 

He cursed in his head at the need to adhere to formalities, for even offering them in the first place to her. He wanted them all gone now. They had their own horses, and managed to get here, they should take the girl so he could just be finished with it. 

“You may join us tonight, and be given food and drink from our table. Due to the fact your leader’s daughter has been our guest.” He tells them gruffly. 

“But, I expect you all to leave tomorrow.” He decided firmly, glaring at Verona a bit as he said it. 

Jon turned to look at their reaction to what was said, seeing the man raise an eyebrow in question, and peer at Verona oddly. Laureen gave a small exhale that might have been a scoff. Otherwise no reaction. When Ser Alliser announced they had to leave tomorrow though, they slumped a little, clearly not excited to get going to quickly. They must be exhausted. They didn't argue though.

“That’s fine with us. We have people to get back to.” Laureen tells Thorne.

Thorne turns back to the two newcomers and assesses them again. He gives a nod to them before turning and continuing with his tasks.

The two newcomers look more relaxed than before, but still looked uncomfortable. Their horses are taken to the stable. 

The three other worlders didn’t move. Jon watched them cautiously. It was tense.

He was reminded of their conversation the other day…

* * *

_  
Jon was walking back to the kitchens, he had been focusing his skills in training others at the moment, and neglecting his duties as a steward. Having Thorne as acting commander certainly didn’t help motivate him to do the job he was assigned. He was more useful this way anyway. He was just, slightly vigilant to make sure Ser Alliser wasn’t around when he did help train._

_Verona was usually with Gilly by now, after spending time with Maester Aemon. He was interested in how she was able to tell where things were of course, but the way she explained it didn’t make it sound pleasant to learn. Jon thinks she might have told the older man more about it, for he didn’t question the specifics of how it worked and how it happened as much after the first few nights she was here._

_She was also learning more about the history of Westeros, which she said reminded her of a place called Europe where she was from. She was both fascinated and disturbed at the things that had happened. She particularly loved the idea that dragons existed in the world, at least in the past. Jon knew they must be getting to Robert’s Rebellion soon, which would be the last piece before the war of the five king’s Jon himself had told her of._

_When he walked in though, he didn’t see her._

_“She hasn’t come by yet.” Gilly tells him, sounding slightly concerned._

_“She might still be with Maester Aemon. I wouldn’t worry.” Jon tells her, before politely exiting._

_Sam was sometimes with them, also telling her things about the history of the Night’s Watch. He saw him exiting the library and caught up to him._

_“Is Verona still with Maester Aemon?”_

_“No, she left a little while ago, I thought she went to join Gilly?”_

_Jon frowns to himself, and shakes his head at Sam to let him know she wasn’t. Sam’s eyes widen in concern._

_“Should we tell everyone, should we start looking for her?”_

_“No, no let me try to find her first. I think I have an idea where she went.” Jon tells his quickly, before Sam works himself up. Sam nods at him and calms a bit, and continues on with what he was doing._

_Jon heads for the gate. Having a feeling she’s outside, where she ran off last time she was upset._

_He spots her my the bottom of a tree, not as curled up as before but still sitting despondently. She hears him approach of course, and turns her slightly in acknowledgement. He sits down across from her._

_“Was there more news about your people?” He asks, thinking it must have been bad news or something similar._

_She shakes her head though, so now he’s at a loss._

_“Was learning about Robert’s Rebellion so distasteful to you?” He says lightheartedly._

_She doesn’t say anything though, just looks down._

_“I know honor is an important thing here… There’s a lot of hatred, for king slaying. At least that’s how maester Aemon feels.” She tells him quietly, after awhile.  
Needless to say, it was not what Jon expected to hear. Perhaps she was troubled that the man who did it was pardoned? _

_“It is considered extremely dishonorable… to kill the person you swore allegiance to. But I met than man who did it. He was an arrogant prick as well, it probably didn’t help his reputation.”_

_“What if you didn’t really swear allegiance to the person in charge?” She asks, still looking down._

_“If it’s a rival side in a war then, no I suppose not disreputable.” Jon tells her, but she shakes her head a bit, like that wasn’t what she was asking._

_“I’ve been trying to find out if others survived for so long. Now that I know, it feels like no matter what, I’ll see them eventually. Like a weight is off my chest. But I haven’t thought that maybe, they don’t want to see me… I’ve been avoiding thinking about it… but now…”_

_Jon was unclear how this was related, but something about the way she said it, the way she brought up kingslaying… but no. That was a ridiculous thought. She was far from a dishonorable person, at least to Jon. He had gotten to know her, he saw her laugh and tease, he even saw her sing a song her father taught her. How could someone like that do what Jamie Lannister did._

_But still, there was something he was missing, something important._

_“Why wouldn’t they want to see you?” Jon asks carefully._

_“What if, the person in charge was killing innocent people even after a war. What if… you think he organized the attack that killed your family. And… the group taking you to your trial got stranded in another world because they used the first ship that was ready. What would happen then?” She said, sounding lightly panicked and fidgeting with her fingers._

_Jon’s eyes widen. He knew somewhat that she blamed herself for the others being here. But to learn what had happened before… She had said the war was ended. But what she was implying… he had felt unnerved by her before, a long time ago, but this was more than just uneasy to hear. She didn’t say she killed the person in charge, not outright, but she mentioned a trial…_

_“Who did you kill?” He asks quietly, sounding tense._

_“I didn’t want you to think differently of me…” She says sadly. But he remains quiet, forcing her to continue._

_“The next president, after my mom. He was the Secretary of Defense when she was in charge… President Price.”_

_Jon leans back carefully, gazing at her in a way he hadn’t before. More cautious, and wondering if he was wrong thinking he knew her._

_“Maester Aemon was telling me about the end of the war. What happened, to his own family. He sounded so upset by it, and other people, they feel similarly. He said your father especially despised the man who did it. But I… I knew things the others didn’t. I knew what he was doing in secret. Taking over our allies throughout the war because they were weakened, but he was the one weakening them! Ordering attacks on civilians and blaming the other side…_

_“I think he let the attack on my family happen. To start the war and to start gaining power. He… he ordered an attack on the city I was being kept prisoner at. After they surrendered! He would have kept killing people. I know he would have. I had to do it, he was never close to me, except at the ceremony. I wouldn’t have gotten another chance!” She ends desperately, willing Jon to believe her._

_Jon just exhales in shock, eyes wide. What was he to make of this now? She seemed convinced it was right. But he wasn’t there, he didn’t know if what she said was true._

_“Why are telling me this?” He asks, voice hard._

_“Because… I didn’t want you to think so horribly of me. I know it’s a bad thing, especially here. But where I’m from… if I had told them what I know, I don’t think they would have condemned me. I do trust you, Jon. I just felt… you should know.”_

_“What does it matter what I think of you?” He challenges her._

_But he already knew he couldn’t condemn her either. Not yet anyway. She hadn’t ever lied, as far as he was aware. Withheld things, sure, even a couple of things he told her to withhold. And if what she said was true… if there were no other option to stop this man… He wasn’t sure he could do it, or would, but he didn’t see what this President Price had done._

_“It matters…” He hears her say quietly._

_“…I could leave though, if you wanted me to… I heard there’s a town close by, it has merchants that travel sometimes, I could ask them to take me south…”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t trust the merchants or travelers from there. It’s a rough town. I’m not going to ask you to leave.” Jon tells her quickly after hearing her suggestion._

_He could imagine all sorts of horrible things happening to her, he wasn’t about to let it happen. She obviously really believed she was doing the right thing. She felt compelled to tell him, because she found out how badly the act might be seen to people who didn’t know the specifics… and didn’t want him to think badly of her. He didn’t want to, honestly. He wanted to believe her. But he needed more to be sure._

_“If your people do come here, before we can spare the people to go south with you, I want to be there when you explain. I want to see for myself what they think.” He tells her._

_She seems surprised at this, not expecting him to suggest it. But she was hopeful, that he didn’t judge her too harshly. She only felt guilty for the people stranded here because of her. She didn’t feel bad at all for what she had done. Verona wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much that Jon and his family would consider her to be dishonorable._

_Jon was a good person, she was sure of it. She… she really wanted to be a good person, and perhaps having his good opinion served as some sort of validation she was good as well. Maybe it was something else too though… something she wasn’t ready to admit to herself._

_“Alright. I promise.”  
_

* * *

He does his best to push the feeling of unease down. He had thought more about what she told him since then. She had proven herself to be a friend to him, she refused to even be part of a group that would kill an innocent man. Despite the group being people who, arguably, saved her life. He felt he knew who she was. These others though… he would be careful and observe them. If they mistreated her… he would protect her.

“Anyone with you?” Laureen asks Verona.

“No… they were killed on impact.” 

“Fine. That’s great. Figures.” Everett interrupts before Verona can tell them more. Her mouth almost snapping shut. The few people left in the courtyard surprised at the open hostility. 

“Maybe you could take us to a fire somewhere? We’re pretty cold.” Laureen asks, raising a brow at the people still close by.

Jon volunteers to show them. Sam and Gilly are still watching from afar. He introduces them all before continuing on their way. Laureen and Everett seem surprised to see a baby here, and he catches them exchanging questioning looks. Sam asks to join them for a while, which they don’t have a problem with.

Verona follows slowly after them. She’s tense now, and her face is more unreadable than Jon is used to. Especially after learning how expressive she could be. Now, with her posture and thoughts guarded, he couldn’t tell what she was feeling. Her hair was more in her face, she seemed more like the time he met her. It hurt to see. 

“Come on, we should get inside, Vera.” He tries out the nickname, maybe hoping to distract her, or remind her what they talked about the first night she ran off. Her eyebrow does quirk up at him in surprise. She doesn’t smile though and is still tense walking with him inside.  
He doesn’t see Everett’s surprised look at the nickname.

They’re sitting by the fire, warming up silently thus far. Jon had taken them to see maester Aemon, who no doubt wanted to learn more about how they arrived here. Since Verona had helpfully told Thorne she ‘ _literally didn’t see a thing, so I couldn’t tell you_ ’ to the hightable the first time they talked, making the older man chuckle in recollection.  


“So that’s what you said!” Sam exclaimed. “It makes a lot more sense now, how much he doesn’t like you. People are usually intimidated by him.”

“Hmm. I could tell he didn’t like me. But as you can guess, mean faces don’t really have an effect on me anymore so…” Verona shrugs in explanation. 

“Lucky for you. His scowls haunt me in my sleep.” Jon says seriously, making Verona laugh under her breath. 

“Yes. You’re so unfortunate to have to see it.” She snarks back at him, shaking her head sadly for effect. 

Its Jon’s turn to chuckle to himself. He got on with formally introducing the two others to the older Maester.

Everett told Maester Aemon that they were familiar with the Maesters of the Citadel, they had helped them when they arrived, and continued to help them interact with the town nearby. They explained their theory on what happened. Verona looked confused as well, so Jon didn’t feel as out of depth at not understanding what exactly they meant. 

Maester Aemon asked Jon to retrieve some drinks while they talk more, which Jon does as quickly as he can, a bit irritated Sam got to stay. When he gets back, he can hear them explaining why they needed Verona to get back. 

“We need a stable power source. And ours is beyond repair at this point. We hope that with Verona can do, she can help us.” Laureen is explaining. 

They must have established what was known about Verona’s abilities while he was gone… Sam looked fascinated and turned to Verona.

“You can do that then?”

“No.”

They all turn in surprise at the blunt answer, clearly it wasn’t what the other two were expecting to hear. 

“It’s all or nothing when it comes to electricity… or, lightning, I guess. I’ve never been able to access just a little of it. I would just fry everything, it’s what I was supposed to do in the first place.” She tells them while picking up and frowning into the cup Jon had put on the small table close to her.

“Have you tried?” Everett asks.

Verona shakes her head.

“Well, the least you could do would be to try.” Everett tells her, almost snapping it out. 

Jon is reminded of what Verona had said atop the wall, to Orell. This didn’t seem like the same thing though. She had mentioned to him a bit about how she couldn’t control what she did really. She was scared of what she could do. Putting their return all onto her seemed a bit unfair. 

Verona looks stricken at what Everett says though. And looks down as if in guilt, and gives a quiet, “I could try.”

The conversation continues for a period, before Sam and Maester Aemon must continue with their duties. Sam was instructed to write to the Citadel again, to ask what they delay in information was due to, and to explain that Verona and two of her people were at Castle Black but leaving to go south tomorrow.

Jon didn’t leave though. He sat with them longer and explained his own part in how he knew her. He had to explain who the free folk where in the process, and what they were preparing for now. How Verona had saved him when climbing the Wall most likely, and he had found her after leaving the free folk to take her here, and make sure she had the proper means to go south. He wasn’t sure when he should mention the growing army of the undead…

Verona was the one to tell them in the end, after picking up on his hesitance.

“They have ice zombies in the north, they call them white walkers and wights. There’s giants up there too.” 

Ah right, they had their own name for them. But they weren’t real where they were from, just stories. Jon wonders how it is that there can be so many stories that were similar, but only the real things here. 

“I… I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Laureen tells her.

“I’m not.”

“Shit. And we thought we had to get out of here when we heard about the Red Wedding. We really need leave.” Everett says, shaking his head before taking a drink. 

“We could help them. If we manage to get back, we could return and help fight them.” Verona tells him seriously. 

Jon wonders how long she’s been thinking this. The other two look at her incredulously. 

“I don’t think you understand the impossibility of the situation we’re in. When we get back, there’s nearly no chance of using the device to return to this place specifically. The only hope we have is the fact that our Earth acts like an anchor… At least that’s what we were told. But the destination… there’s practically no way we can get back here.” Laureen tells her, trying to be delicate. 

“I didn’t know how it works…” Verona admits.

Jon was glad she would have wanted them to return and help. He smiled a bit thinking of it.

The two others consider him curiously, and then look to Verona to fill in more blanks. 

“What happened after you landed up north?” Laureen asks Verona. 

“I woke up with a concussion, and fell back unconscious after moving around too soon…” She tells them. 

“Why did you want to get south?” Everett asks her almost challengingly, slightly glaring at her. Jon decided he didn’t like him. 

“…To find others… to get back - ” 

“You want to get back. Is that a joke? Isn’t this an ideal scenario for you?” Everett asks her, clearly angry but more mocking her than anything. 

Laureen wasn’t openly hostile to her, only cautions. After Everett’s outburst though, she looked at him annoyed. She stared at him hard until he turned to her, she gave him a ‘what are you doing?’ look. He just turned away.

' _You’re going to ignore it huh…_ ' Laureen muttered under her breath. 

Verona was just sitting still; it would look like she was staring at the small table to the side of her if they didn’t know she was blind. Perhaps it was time to stop delaying the inevitable…

“Why don’t you just ask, if it’s bothering you so much.” She tells Everett eventually who stares silently at her. Laureen looks at her in surprise, she didn’t think Verona would be the one to bring it up so directly. It was the most Jon was able to read from her expressions so far. Everett gives a short laugh of disbelief, or distain, it was difficult to tell. 

“Just ask? Are you fucking serious? Like it’s just something you ask normally, just – just a nonchalant question that one goes around asking?!” He grows louder with each word. Jon tenses, ready to intervene if needed. 

“I wanted to tell you…” Verona tries quietly, still looking down but her eyebrows pinched. 

“But you didn’t!” Everett stands suddenly. Verona leans back jerkily. Jon almost stands himself but he sees the man is just pacing in front of the fire now. Laureen stares at him in frustration although doesn’t stand herself. Everett is muttering under his breath at the moment, but Laureen turns back to Verona. 

“Just how much do the people here know?” Laureen asks her. 

“I answered what they asked for the most part… Jon knows, if that’s what you mean.” Verona said bluntly. 

“That may be a problem. We were ordered to not let people here know how bad things were, and what we were capable of. Everyone we’ve met has been… not hostile exactly, but they don’t like that we’re here.” 

The frustration in Laureen’s voice makes Verona cringe. She withheld some things sure but when asked directly, she never really refused to explain… Maybe she should have? Everyone already knew who she was back home. She wasn’t used to holding things back like that. 

Everett was still pacing, thinking and working himself up more and more. He felt like she should have told him what she was planning, and why she was planning it. He thought of her as a younger sister, he had trusted her, and taken care of her. She reminded him of his own younger sisters, it was difficult not to have a soft spot for her. 

Perhaps it was the fact that she wasn’t reacting the way he thought, not acting particularly guilty, and seeing how there were a few people here she appeared to be friends with that got him so upset. So much so he was willing to share more than what they were ordered to. Even though he thought she had reason to do what she did, thinking about how there was a real possibility she wouldn’t answer for what it made him angry. Why would she explain to this man and not him, he had protected her during the last year of the war. 

“We knew everything she did to you. The doctor made sure of it. Sent the information to us, our allies, their allies… She used it as a scare tactic. We _saw_ what she did to you! Blinded you, made it so you couldn’t speak, beat you bloody more times than I even know, healed you to do it all over again.” He was still pacing in front of her, but more slowly this time, glaring at the floor. 

If he had looked up, he would have seen eyes widening.

After a moment, Verona’s lips went thin, her eyebrows drawn down. Of all the things she thought he would do, she didn’t think he’d throw this back in her face. 

“Turned you inside out, wrapped you in metal strings, shot lightning through you until it didn’t kill you, drilled holes in your fucking _skull_! Fuck Rendell, we thought she _erased_ you! There was no hope in saving you, we were ordered to put you down if we saw you, as an act of mercy!” Everett stopped in front of her now, actually looking at Verona. 

Her steely expression made him pause. She looked up, almost into his eyes. It never failed to creep him out. 

Jon was feeling particularly sick with all this new information. He knew it was bad, but hearing even just some of the details… Did this man really mean she was killed with lightning multiple times? He had seen the scars on her head, but he didn’t fully realize what it meant. The helmet she said controlled her, was attached into her head, not just on the surface. 

“When you escaped, the world had hope again. We could see an end without everyone dying. When you actually _joined_ us, well, that was the end for the ‘Alliance of Nations’ we fought against. Most either stopped fighting or turned. So, my question, that you just, want me to ask you so flippantly. Is why, after catching and arresting the doctor who did those things to you, who we sentenced to death, who we _saved_ for _you_ to kill, _why_ did you kill the President of the United States instead? Why did you kill President Price?” He wasn’t yelling anymore, it was more of a hiss. 

“I’ll tell you everything. Are you really ready to hear it?” She asked them both. 

Everett stared at her a moment before sitting back down slowly in response. 

Verona gave a nervous sounding exhale. 

~

* * *

~

“He needed to die. He needed the die for the war to end. The elections should continue normally now… I had to believe that there are still good people. To make it worth it. So I had to do it, while he was there in front of me. Because even though I wanted to kill _her_ , I didn’t need to… she was going to die with or without me. But Price… he needed to die.

“I mean, he was on a literal fucking pedestal giving his speech about _Freedom and Justice_ , despite what he did. I couldn’t… I just - ” She shook her head again trailing off.  


Everett and Laureen were staring at her in horrified disbelief. They obviously had no clue what their own leader was doing. Though, maybe Everett did have some idea…

Everett stands shakily this time and starts to pace again. No longer angry but concentrating, as if recalling everything he could about the things Verona had mentioned. Laureen’s face was steeled again, she leaned back though once Verona was finished. 

Jon stared down at the ground, a mixture of unease and yet understanding in him. The amounts of people she talked about this person killing; it was terrifying. Would he have been able to do it? Kill what was supposed to be his ‘Commander and Chief’ as Vera had put it. In the middle of a public ‘Ceremonial Execution’? The way she presented it though… he could understand it. 

“You have no evidence. Nothing but what you believe. What if what you believed is wrong.” Laureen asks her, still sounding unsure though.

“She’s not.” Everett stops and says. His hand pinching his nose before looking at Laureen, looking dismayed but resigned.

“There’s too many things, too many things that make sense now. I was with her the whole time. I had an idea what could be happening. But I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t think we would be capable… But it is true. I realize that now.” The last part was directed at Verona. 

Laureen had snapped to look at him when he spoke. When he finished, she exhaled shakily, muttering _fuck_ under her breath. Now she was holding her head and slumping to the side of her chair. 

“Price wasn’t exactly popular, but this…” Laureen says, mostly to herself. 

Laureen had known Everett knew more about it than he let on, he had been conflicted though. No wonder too, if it were true, it was really bad. It made them all complicit in a way that was terrible to admit. Laureen was inclined to believe it at this point too. She had gotten to know the big broody dope over the past year, if this way hanging over his head it made sense. 

Laureen really couldn’t imagine what Rendell was going through. She had already been through so much. She still wanted people to be good though… it could be the eleven-year-old in her still shinning through, even after so much pain. It would help if she had some reassurance, that the others in the south would welcome her, it would make her more able to help. 

Everyone knew she had problems using her powers again, but to this day they debated if it was a mental or physical problem. And Laureen had people to get back to. Her sister and brother in law had both died during the war, she was the guardian of their two kids. They might be staying with her father, but he was an older guy. She needed to get back, preferably as quickly as possible. So perhaps the reason for her reassurance wasn’t exactly altruistic, but it was for a good reason, at least to Laureen.

“I believe you.” Laureen says, sitting up and looking at her. Verona startles at the change in tone, she sounded so certain. 

“If we’re able to get back, I’ll swear it to whoever needs to hear it. I believe you. You’ll have my support. And even if we can’t get back, I swear you have my support. You did what you had to do.” 

Everett stares at Laureen in surprise, but smiles a bit, and turns back to Verona, nodding slowly in agreement. “I swear it too. I’ll testify on your behalf should we get back. And if we shouldn’t, you’ll always have my support. I’ll tell it to anyone who would question it, you did the right thing.”

Everett had been in denial about how bad things were for years now. Purposefully ignoring some of the signs, because he didn’t want to know how bad the truth could be. And he had been guilty ever since. 

Seeing what Rendell had done was frightening of course, but he knew she must have found something even worse than what he suspected. He had thought perhaps, the US had known when the Alliance of Nations would strike but didn’t share the information, which was still horrible. But to actually be _responsible_.  


And it made since, about her parents… it was long suspected that someone on the inside of their own defenses had turned traitor. The attack shouldn’t have been possible.

He couldn’t admit it then. But he could now. As difficult as it was. And Laureen offering Verona help when they get back, it made him realize it was time to act of the things he knew. 

Verona looks moved at their words, and swallows shakily in response. 

“Thanks.” she manages to choke out. 

Jon is moved to witness it too. They had been mistrustful of her, but from her explanation and what they already knew about her past, they believed her. They believed in her, that she did that right thing. That was enough for Jon to believe it too. 

“I had a lot of doubts… about you, about our country… I was frustrated. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I shouldn’t have brought up those things… I’m sorry.” Everett apologizes in a low voice, looking ashamed.

She only gives a quiet, “It’s alright.” in return. 

Everett turns to Jon now. “We aren’t really expected to stay here the whole time right? I saw people training outside. I’ve never swung a sword before, maybe you could teach us something before we leave?”

Maybe he’s making some sort of effort in comradery. But Jon wasn’t sure it would make him like the man. Still, it couldn’t hurt, he supposed. As long as Thorne wasn’t overseeing things, why not see how these soldiers from another world fight. There’s a pang in his chest though, being reminded that they’re leaving tomorrow. It hadn’t really sunk in what it meant. He would probably never see her again…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of drama going on, because why not.
> 
> So, President Price = Alma Coin from the Hunger games, pretty much. I’m using the scene where Katniss kills Coin instead of Snow for reference here. Now that her backstory is pretty much caught up, we can start to move forward again. 
> 
> Also, just want to be clear that none of the backstory is based off of real events. I had a whole lot of dialog about it, but I was thinking… its just too much. I might just post a separate story just about Verona’s backstory and how I imagined WWIII would go in the 2080’s. But here, it seemed kinda forced in, Verona describing everything that went on. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long update, more to follow soon!

It wasn't snowing but the cold was still more than they were used to. Back home the winters got milder as the years went on. Everett remembers the driest summer he lived through when he was only a small kid, the dirt growing more gritty and dusty, and driving for miles to fix pipelines constantly with his old man. Kentucky had never had a summer like that, it was further west that those problems happened.

But the trees and grass grew brown instead of the usual lush green. He had seen snow but not for years. Laureen told him she never saw it before they arrived here. She was from the west coast so, it made more sense. He grew up using weapons, to hunt with his family. But swords were something he only saw in museums, and the fantasy movies that were still popular from the turn of the century. It'd be interesting to give it a go.

They ended up watching some of the drills they were doing first, looking interested. Jon wondered if not using swords was true for most people where she was from. They did have knives, from what he could tell. They were strapped to their legs so that when they were wearing cloaks it was difficult to spot them. 

Jon asked if they wanted to try out the practice swords. He was curious how they would do. 

Laureen was the first to pick one up, to his surprise and the surprise of the other members of the night’s watch. They didn’t often see women pick up weapons. It made them all pause, unsure what exactly to say, or who would be the one to fight against her. 

“I… I don’t know if this is acceptable?” A man asks hesitantly. 

“I’m already a soldier. I’m way passed what’s acceptable.” Laureen says exasperated. 

Everett picks up a practice sword too. 

“So, let’s practice.” Everett says, not even addressing the concerns, not acknowledging that there was a problem with Laureen being there at all.

Jon was a bit confused at their approach and fighting style honestly. It was a whole different method than what he was taught. And not suited to fighting with a weapon with reach, in his opinion. They clearly were trained in close combat, with knives or even hand to hand, but when it came to swords… it was odd. 

Their footwork was all wrong. In the simple fact that they didn’t seem to want to move when they should. Their whole strategy seemed to be to plant their feet solidly, and unbalance their opponent. 

Which was a valid strategy, for a time, but not for an _entire_ fight. You still needed to move effectively. Jon recalled watching his own father show them, somehow being both solid and fast with his footwork. 

They also seemed to not know how to do multiple moves with a sword. They could deflect maybe one or two blows but wouldn’t counter strike when presented the opportunity. It made it so they were always on the defensive if they didn’t immediately take the offense. 

Even then, if they were countered immediately, they didn’t know where to go from there. They just didn’t know how to defend. It was clear they had never fought with a sword before… But he had taught others here who didn’t even know how to throw a punch, so they weren’t as unskilled as that.

He had to admit, if they got close, they could unbalance people and press the advantage well. Laureen could get closer to her opponents than Everett could in that regard, but he was strong enough that if he could land a blow effectively it would still do the job in knocking people back.

Jon was helping them as they went along, pointing out a new guard position he thought was helpful, and constantly reminding them to “Move your feet!” It was clear they were a long way from being good. 

“You can’t rely on dodging everything or tripping your opponent. You need to learn how to fight _with_ the sword.” Jon tells him. “You have to learn how to judge what your opponent is going to do, learn how to counter effectively. You can’t just react to everything without thinking ahead. You might get lucky and disorient your opponent to get close, but it’s not likely to happen every time.”

Jon explains, trying to think of a way to show them what he means. 

“Think of the sword as an extension of your own arm. The way you’re fighting, you’re not using it at all.”

“What do you recommend then?” Laureen asks.

“Practice, for one. Just trying once won’t help you. I can show you a few basic moves, but you need to put them together in your own head to combat an enemy effectively. It’s almost never just one strike if your opponent is skilled. You need to get used to _having_ the extra reach to use it well.”

Everett and Laureen nod seriously, obviously trying to understand. Verona is listening too, looking thoughtful. She was standing over by the stairs, just listening.

“Are you going to try it out Vera? Or are you just going to imagine it wistfully from over there?” Jon calls out, making several people turn in surprise, not realizing she was there too. 

Everett and Laureen exchanged surprised glances, they hadn’t heard anyone blatantly mock her that way. No one would dare. Verona wasn’t upset though, she had an amused look on her face, and an eyebrow quirked up. She looked like she was about to say something when Everett interrupted. 

“She already knows how to fight. Maybe it’s not the best idea.” Everett says abruptly, looking uncomfortable.

Verona’s amusement melted, she crosses her arms and has that expressionless face back on. She gives a small nod and goes back inside without a word, Jon frowns to himself.

“With just three people traveling, its best if everyone practices. At least get used to dodging, and defense.” Jon turns back to them to say this.

“She’ll be fine.” Everett tells him, not concerned. 

“Maybe she wanted to learn.” Jon points out, getting a bit frustrated now.

Laureen looks thoughtfully at him then after where Verona disappeared to. 

“We can all practice, we’ll have the time. We can use fucking sticks if we have to, find someone to sell us swords on the way.” She both promises and gives a look at Everett, telling him not to argue the point.

Everett huffs but doesn’t add anything. 

Jon had been about to put the practice equipment away when he spotted Thorne coming down to the courtyard. 

Thorne spared him a look as he passed, telling him to finish cleaning up and join after everything was put away. He didn’t address the others in the courtyard, not directly, just telling the men to get inside the main hall. 

He could see Sam and Pyp come up to walk with the others inside, before they walk in Sam offered to help but he declines. It was better the two were with someone they knew a little. He would hurry and complete his task and join them soon anyway.

* * *

“Who shot an arrow at you?” Everett asks, voice hard, holding Verona’s vest and tracing the hole in it thoughtfully. 

Everyone was having their meal and were trying not to appear to be listening, but the change in tone caught people’s attention. Verona had brought out her few things to put with the other’s stuff. It wasn’t much, some odd pieces of armor and the vest she had. 

She had returned the cloak she wore, saying it belonged here, for future night’s watch men. She had an extra cloak Laureen gave her now, which seemed to be enough for her, despite it being so thin.

Jon was also paying attention now, feeling a pang of guilt at the question asked. 

Jon noticed how weary these two were of Verona, even after she explained things to them. Weary and cautions but also somehow treating her like she was fragile. Everett had arranged things on the table in front of her, like she hadn’t been eating there for weeks and knew where things were. She had given a tight-lipped thanks. 

They were also protective of her, by the sounds of it. But still, cautions, and watching for any sudden moves. It was an odd way to treat anyone. 

Verona could tell how careful they were being, reminding her of how things where back home. Or, back on Earth One, she sometimes called it in her head. She’d have to get used to it again. 

“You got lucky.” Everett tells her.

“… no one here.” Verona answers eventually. 

“I thought it just stopped arrows?” Verona says, confused. 

“It’s designed for ballistics, not arrows or sharped edges. This is a new one though, so it also has protection from shrapnel. There’s a metal band underneath here, connected to this strap. It must have slowed it down just enough.”

“…oh. That is lucky.” She responded eventually. 

Laureen hummed in agreement, looking at the hole in her vest as well. 

“I think I might have an extra shirt you can wear it over it, with the cloak. It’s not helpful to stand out… Maybe we should get you something with a hood…” Laureen said thoughtfully.

“A hood huh.” Verona says before continuing. 

“Why do I need a hood?” She looked up wide eyed and brows raised innocently, wanting to see what they would say.

“… You know then?” Everett says eventually.

“Yeah. Why didn’t anyone let me know?” 

Both Everett and Laureen look sheepish as they glanced at each other.

“We didn’t want to upset you. You were struggling enough.” Laureen tells her. 

“Hmm” Verona pursed her lips and took a sip of water, obviously disapproving. 

“It’s not like I haven’t seen people with colored hair before. I’d rather people just tell me things like that.” She tells them seriously. 

They agree with her, tell her it won’t happen again easily enough. But Verona still frowns a little and looks concerned. Jon wonders if they’re lying… It seems wrong to keep something like that from someone.

“I’m surprised you’re not having tea or something.” Everett tells her.

“Well… this is warm so, it helps… I really just like it be warm.”

“We found some mint on the way here. Picked a ton of it, we’ve been using it to help clean our teeth. You want some?” Everett offered. 

Verona’s left brow quirks up in interest, and she nods in ascent, wanting to try it. He leaned over and opened a pouch that was by the knife strapped to his leg and pulled out some leaves. 

“Put your cup down a sec.” 

She did, allowing him to put the leaves in. She stirred it around before taking a sip, a smile on her lips. Jon couldn’t help but wonder about the odd habit. Maybe she just really liked tea? He had wondered why she liked warm water; it sort of made sense now. He hadn’t seen her put anything in it before though. Maybe it soothed her somehow?

“Getting back to travel plans…” Everett says sort of awkwardly, “We only have two horses. I don’t know where we could get another?” 

He addresses some people close to him, questioningly. They really didn’t have any to spare, honestly, so they just shrugged. 

“I can’t really ride anyway…” Verona points out.

“Yeah I’ll say, you fell right off when you got here.” Someone called out from a table away, causing some chuckles. 

Verona pouts a bit and mutters, _a planned fall_ , under her breath, causing Jon to laugh as well. 

“Well, that’s fine then, you can ride with me. I have more experience with horses than Laureen, after all.” Everett tells her. 

Jon looks at him appraisingly, unsure why the idea makes him so uncomfortable. It’s not like she could ride by herself really, and it was unreasonable to expect her to walk while they didn’t the whole way. Yet still, something twinges at the idea.

Everett notices his look and raises an eyebrow. Jon looks away. 

Jon decided to walk with her back to where Gilly and little Sam are staying after dinner.

* * *

As Jon was walking Verona back to where she was staying with Gilly for the last time, he thought about what she had said before, about not wanting him to think less of her.

Jon thinks about it. Really thinks about whether or not he thought less of her. She killed her own leader. She wasn’t a member of the King’s Guard though; and it wasn’t Westeros she did this in. And according to her other countrymen, they didn’t have a problem with disposing of corrupt leaders. The only problem they had was lack of evidence. They believed her though, in the end. 

She had mentioned a few times, when they were with the free folk and here at Castle Black, how odd things were getting in their government during the war. Rules being changed, protocols being ignored. She never was supposed to be in the military, it wouldn’t have been allowed before the war according to her. 

Did he loose respect for her? He was angry, and a bit betrayed at the start but, if she had told the free folk that, or the other members of the night’s watch, they would have treated her as a threat. She knew what could happen if she told anyone though. She probably shouldn’t have let him know about it either, but she trusted him. 

She had shared things with him, and he with her. He knew how much she wanted to be normal, even though it was out of reach. How much she cared about even one innocent man dying. The trouble she had using her powers. He knew she missed her old music and liked her water warmed up. Now he knew why. He knew that little Sam made her miss her own little brother, but still liked to play with him. 

He had told her about his family, how difficult it was living as not quite a Stark, looking from the outside in at what he wanted to be a part of. Told her he was closest to Arya, and Robb. One was dead and one was missing, no one knowing where she disappeared to. He talked about his uncle Benjen, how he was certain that he was dead now. He talked about Ghost, how he wasn’t sure if he’d see him again. She understood, how loosing family hurt. 

She trusted him with her feelings at least. Perhaps now she’ll trust him with more… but that was a hopeless thought. She was leaving the next day. He would almost certainly never see her again. There was another twinge in his chest at the thought, but he pushed it down.

“I don’t think less of you, you know.” He said quietly, before reaching the door. 

“You killed an evil man. How could I think less of you for that?” As he says it, he knows he didn’t lose respect for her. 

She was forced to make a horrible choice. Like she had once said to him, he wished she never had to make it in the first place.

She stopped when he did and looked grateful for his words, and also a bit sad and pensive. 

“To be honest… I didn’t really feel conflicted after making the decision. The fact that I was part of his rise in power is what haunts me now.” Verona admits to him.

“What matters are your intentions. I know you don’t want to be what they made you. You were fooled, but you still tried to make it right. You can’t put everything on yourself, there were a lot of your people who were fooled too. Even the people here admitted it.” Jon reminds her of what Everett had said as well. 

“Thanks, Jon. You’ve helped a lot. More than you know.” Verona tells him, sounding sincere. 

He didn’t know what to say, before he could think of anything she moves forward and hugs him. He hugs her back without thinking, offering what comfort he could. He leans his head over hers and squeezes her gently. It couldn’t have been a minute before she pulled away though, still looking away. 

“Goodnight Jon.” She tells him, sounding choked up.

“Goodnight, Vera.” He answers softly. 

She goes to join Gilly, he turns and heads for the barracks. 

He usually fell asleep thinking of red hair, but tonight, he thought about how he would probably never see blue hair ever again after tomorrow. It was a shame, it was so unique. She kept it untamed for the most part but still. He wondered if it was a soft as the light blue sky it resembled. He rested his head against hers but he couldn’t tell, he didn’t stroke through it. Her lips probably soft too…

He shook his head slightly, feeling guilty for wishing he had been able to find out. He knew he still loved Ygritte, and it felt like he was betraying her somehow. Even though he knew they couldn’t be together either. Not after everything.

* * *

Verona’s POV:

Everett and Laureen were standing across the courtyard, talking with Sam and Grenn, I think. They were sharing some helpful traveling information, and Sam specifically was pointing out the best ways of reading a map. I wish there was some way I could read one… Westeros had been described to me but, it wasn’t the same as actually knowing. Maybe if they traced the shape with a thicker material… I could trace it myself?

I was standing by the horses, arms crossed while thinking about riding one again. Maybe a saddle would make it better… but I doubt it. I didn’t like how little I could sense while riding one. I don’t know if I could ever get used to it. 

I think I can hear Jon approaching, I turn in his direction a bit, arms still crossed. 

“Nervous?” Jon asks me.

“Well… I wouldn’t say nervous exactly… just wondering the odds of falling off again.” I admit.

“You were fine when I was conscious. You should be alright.” He tells me, something in his tone I couldn’t recognize exactly. 

Maybe frustrated? But that didn’t make sense. 

“Laureen thinks that if I get used to, I’ll still be able to sense things while riding.” I tell him, sounding uncertain.

“What do you think?”

“… it’s unlikely. But I’ll be optimistic and say maybe.” I give a decisive nod at the end.

I hold out my hand and wait a moment before the horse closest to me sniffs at it. After which I pat its nose. I hadn’t really pet a horse before. Jon just shoved me onto one really. 

“What will you do now?” I ask him.

“Keep preparing. I’ve heard that we should be getting new recruits soon. We’ve sent word to enough of the north, at least a few people have listened… I keep thinking, what if the mutineers are still at Craster’s Keep. The free folk will know I was lying about how many men we have. But I can’t know for sure. And also, we could put Lord Commander Mormont to rest.”

That was were Gilly and Sam escaped from wasn’t it… after learning about the guy, at first I wasn’t that upset knowing someone like Craster was killed but… then hearing Sam describe what the mutineers where doing. There was just no justice there. It was disgusting. 

Replacing something bad with something worse. I hope Jon helps those women, but… I hope he’ll be alright. There’s always a risk going on those types of covert missions. I know he’ll find a way to help, it seems like something he would do.

Sometimes it feels like everyone kills everything here… I wonder if people thought of me that way… No let’s not think about that now. Like I shouldn’t be thinking about how the free folk are going to be attacking everyone here. 

When, for fuck’s sake, they were both decent enough. 

It was frustrating, but I didn’t know what to do. Intimidating them would be wrong, coercing them into an agreement wouldn’t last. As soon as I left it wouldn’t matter. I lost hope awhile back on them making peace. 

I liked traveling with the free folk, they could be funny, a bit crude sure, but friendlier than the people here now. They were cautious at first but, they lived with giants, and had seen an army of the dead. After I didn’t attack them, I was pretty much a friend. 

But there was always the undertone, if I had done anything at all they would cast me down. It was here too, but not the same. Here they were more afraid, they wouldn’t risk turning on me because of it. So even though it wasn’t as welcoming, I somehow felt safer. It was odd.

Jon was good though. He always seemed to try and do the right thing. Even if it wasn’t easy. 

“If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you’ll find the best way to help. If that’s going north to that place… well, I hope you’ll be careful.” I end up telling him.

“Aren’t I always?” He says back. 

Yeah. Right. And I didn’t meet him while he was undercover in a camp that had been enemies with his ancestors for centuries. And he didn't volunteer in join a group that lives for fighting enemies of their realm. Sure Jon. 

I must have made a face because I hear him chuckling under his breath. I can also hear Gilly approaching, holding little Sam I think. I turn a bit towards them. 

“I just wanted to say goodbye. It was nice to talk with you. And, I wanted to thank for trying to help me while you were here.” Gilly told me, I could tell she must be smiling at the end, some amusement in her voice. 

That’s fair. I really wasn’t good at helping her at all. 

“Yeah. A cook I am not.” I admit with a sigh.

“I enjoyed talking with you too. And I’ll miss little Sam.” I tell her and reach out a hand.

I hold my hand slightly above him, like I usually do. I can feel him grasp it, and I shake it like I was giving him a handshake. 

“Bye little guy. Till next we meet.” I tell him seriously. 

He gurgles. So cute. I feel a pang in my chest, thinking of Lucas, but it’s not as bad as it used to be. More nostalgic and nice than the raw feeling of loss. 

I can hear the others approaching now, probably ready to leave. 

“Goodbye Gilly.” I tell her.

“Goodbye. I hope you travel safety. All of you.” 

I smile and nod. I turn to Sam next. 

“Bye Sam. Thanks for your help. And could you tell Maester Aemon as well? I’m grateful for all the stories he shared. I’m thankful to Ser Alliser too I guess, for allowing me to stay.”

“Of course. I hope you get back home safely. It was really nice to meet you!” He tells me kindly. 

He and Gilly were similar in their kindness, it was cute. I could tell he was attached to her, and she to him. I don’t know if anything could happen though, the rules here seemed clear cut. 

I haven’t said anything to Jon yet. I can’t think of anything I could say that would be enough. I can tell the other two are waiting for me. It’s more difficult to talk to him though. I don’t know why, exactly, but it felt like I was sick to my stomach almost. I hadn’t felt that way before, maybe I ate something funny. 

He’s quiet too. He hasn’t spoken or moved since I said goodbye to Gilly. I wonder if he’s brooding, sometimes I could read the silences, and his was mostly always brooding. Sam even confirmed it, so I knew it wasn’t in my head at least. 

Laureen has already gotten on. Now Everett. He’ll pull me up then…

“I can’t thank you enough, for all you’ve done for me. I could have starved, out there by myself. You’ve been a good friend. I’ll… miss you.” I manage to tell him. I sound sad, even to me.

“I’ll miss you too.” I hear him say quietly. 

Everett pulls me up, I’m being pulled up behind him which is different, I’m a but started and start to fall over the other way. I feel someone grab my left arm and help steady me. I can use my right hand to hang on to Everett’s cloak now, but I still don’t think the feeling. 

“You alright?” Everett asks, shifting a bit. 

“Yeah.” I tell him, already tense being up here. 

I can tell he’s not the one who’s holding my arm. I’m also holding theirs so… it’s probably Jon. 

I’m really no good at this at all, riding horses always looked to easy and cool in movies and tv and in books... what lies. Even if I could see I’d still be shit at this. I just knew it. 

I squeeze Jon’s arm once. 

“Thanks.” I tell him sheepishly, and let his arm go. 

He huffs a bit, probably in amusement, before releasing me. I wonder if he’s smiling, I bet he has a nice smile. 

“Try not to fall off.” Jon tells me. 

“I can’t promise that. But I’ll try… Goodbye, Jon.” I finally manage to say it, I hate how wrong it feels. 

The other two must have been waiting for me to spit it out, they finally start moving. I hear them saying a few more things, but I’m not really paying attention too much. I can hear Jon’s goodbye under his breath.

* * *

Lord Bolton departed yet again from the Dreadfort after assigning his bastard to take Moat Cailin for him. He had limited amount of men available to him, but if things went as expected, it would work out before Ramsay managed to take the Castle blocking their way. 

He had sent men ahead into Barrowton, they would be able to give him more information the locals had on these people. 

They would also tell him more about family in charge of the wooden city. Lord Dustin’s cooperation would be important after all. And fear was what kept people in line. 

Once the Others were dealt with, he would leave a few alive, for who wouldn’t want to have the weapons they possessed. They would teach them how to make them here, he would persuade them. And if that didn’t work, he should have their Lady soon enough. His bastard had proven effective in getting information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the long update time, I was figuring out how to do these next few chapters so that I actually liked them. I have three different versions of how its going to go, so hopefully I got the best story figured out. 
> 
> And yeah, sorry but Verona is leaving for a while. Going to learn more about the north, and the people. Her thoughts/beliefs may be challenged due to the harsh nature of this world. Because how long can you go in Westeros before having to kill someone to defend yourself?
> 
> Jon’s trying his best to focus on his responsibilities, he’ll meet some new people soon as per the show.
> 
> Also, I’ll try to include more from other characters to show where they are at the moment, and how they’re reacting to some things.
> 
> And also, I know Barrowton in in the books, but its going to be different here, with some similar names but the characters are different overall.


	13. Chapter 13

Jon was happy to see Edd and Grenn stumble back into Castle Black, he had thought they were long dead at this point. They had shared what was happening at Craster’s Keep, what they had done with Ghost. 

Jon knew he had to say something, had to make some effort to kill the mutineers, they knew too much, and hadn’t any spine. They would be killed and tortured and give Mance all the information he wants. 

He explained what had to be done to Ser Alliser, what it could mean if Mance knew he lied about their numbers, but still he didn’t sanction it. He was frustrated, he wanted to do more but couldn’t, and they were running out of time. 

Debating with Sam was helpful, if only for the opportunity to vent. He could imagine what Verona would say, probably something along the lines of “ _What a fucking asshole._ ” Sam was more polite about it. 

After Verona had left, Janous had made remarks towards Gilly that had set him on edge, along with several others of the night’s watch. They talked about having her go to Moles town, to be safer. Jon wasn’t too sure about the decision but understood how Sam must be feeling at least. 

There were raids getting closer and closer to Castle Black, which made Jon himself worried about a small group of three traveling south. They already said they were rarely on the roads, but wildlings didn’t take roads either. 

A boy, Olly his name was, had delivered the message to them. Part of him wanted to know if Ygritte was there, but he didn’t dare ask. There was a pang of longing and hurt, but he had to push it down to more forward. 

And as difficult as it was, he knew they couldn’t afford to seek out the wildlings, it’s what they wanted. It would weaken Castle Black the more brothers they lost leading up to Mance’s forces beyond the Wall. 

But seeing his friend’s return, this was something they had to do, had to risk. 

Edd and Grenn were able to join them that day, having time to catch up. Edd went right to what was on his mind. 

“What’s this about a girl falling from the sky? They can’t be fucking serious. Tell me they’re not fucking serious.” Edd asks deadpan.

Jon half smiles in amusement, understanding the feeling well. It was Sam who answered though. 

“It is true. She was quite nice, she and Gilly got on, and she had such stories! About ships that could fly, buildings taller than the Wall! I’ve been trying to draw something out about the ships she mentioned, something to send to the Citadel perhaps. Her friends were alright, a bit gloomy. They retrieved her not long ago.” Sam explained, sounding excited. 

“Friends?... Fuck me…” Jon heard Edd sigh, not even managing a quip about Sam’s incessant need for knowledge. 

“What does it mean? Something like that happening?” Grenn asked, concerned. 

What did it mean? Jon hadn’t a clue. It seemed like an accident, without purpose or reason. But others might use their presence as a sign. Meeting them though, it didn’t seem that way at all. 

“I think it was an accident, their coming here. They weren’t trying to show up or anything.” Jon tells him.

They looked concerned though. Like most people did when Verona first arrived, and when they heard of the Others further south. 

More recruits showed up soon after, giving Jon more opportunity to train them. Grenn helping, he had gotten a lot better as time went on, it made Jon proud to see his progress. He called up two recruits to fight. The man with black hair and beard easily won, knocking his opponent out.

“You could have gone easy on him.” Jon tells him, looking at the man on the ground.

“Wouldn’t have learned anything that way.” The man responded simply. 

It wasn’t long before Thorne made his way down to the courtyard. 

“Lord Snow. What is it you think you’re doing?”

“Training some new recruits Ser Alliser.” Jon tells him.

“That’s not your job is it? You’re not a ranger, you’re a steward. Go find a chamber pot to empty.” Ser Alliser sneers at him as he says it. 

Jon’s anger grew, how could he not see what he was doing was necessary? He was doing all he could to help his brother’s, but still he was treated like a threat by this man. Jon took a step forward in anger, meeting him with a scowl of his own.

“Go on. Do it. You’re a traitor’s bastard. Give me an excuse.” Ser Alliser dared him. 

He wasn’t worth it. Not worth arguing with. He’d never get on with him, but he won’t give him the satisfaction in seeing him snap. He backs away. 

He puts his things back where the training equipment was kept. The man he just witnessed knock the other to the ground decided to join him. Locke, his name was. From further south, he learned why he was at Castle Black, seemed a decent man. 

He also had more stories of the people who fell. The main group. They sung songs, but didn’t give much information at all. They were secretive, and people were growing more suspicious that they already were apparently. He told stories of King’s Landing being in turmoil by their presence, not sure how to handle what had happened. 

That was unfortunate to hear. Jon hoped Verona wouldn’t find out, she would feel responsible somehow, he was sure. It was interesting to know her own group was missing music as well. He wondered what they chose to sing. 

Locke asked about the Blue Lady that was here, the others saying he traveled with her, beyond the Wall. What they said about her, he asked if it was true. Jon wasn’t sure if he should confirm it or not, he had misgivings after telling the high table anyway. But there was something he wanted to know first.

“You just got here. You already heard about her?” Jon asked curiously. 

Locke gazed at him for a moment before responding.

“Some lords know of her, won’t be long until more people do too.” 

That… probably wasn’t good. He knew how northerners could be to people not from the north, or Westeros itself. What could he do though? He could worry but it wouldn’t change things. It just added to his growing frustration. 

Locke could see his concern on his face and stored the information away in his head.

“When did she leave?” Locke asked.

“Not long ago. Less than a week.” Jon told him.

“Hmm. Sorry I missed her. Heard she had blue hair.” Locke says easily enough, not sounding concerned he missed the opportunity. 

He still had a chance to find out about Bran and Rickon Stark. He would focus on that. 

“Aye. She did.” Jon mutters before walking away. 

Not long after, Ser Alliser gave him leave to go north of the Wall, and take care of the mutineers at Craster’s Keep. He reminded his brother’s who Lord Commander Mormont was to them. How he deserved better. Even Locke was moved by his magnanimous words. 

But Locke had other reasons for joining him. He overheard part of his conversation with Sam, he knew he had to take this chance to find the boys. 

They left the next day.

* * *

Barrowton had never been the most powerful stronghold in the north, or the most populous, but they had long traditions, like any ancient family. Wood carvings were seen through the city and decorated the mostly wooden walls. The houses wrapped around the hill in the center of the city, where the central keep was located. The stronghold of House Dustin, for centuries past, and centuries to come. 

There were four gates into the city, east west, north and south. Though only the northern gate was open at all times these days. A way of keeping track of how many visitors entered. Many people came to Barrowton now, a new inn had been able to open because of it. 

The plains and small hills stretched for a long time around the city, along with a river on the east side. The forest could barely be seen when looking east, but people looked in that direction a lot lately. 

When the other worlders were there, they stuck to the lower sections mostly. Where the inns were, as well as the blacksmith. Occasionally going up a level to the main market. 

They didn’t have much to sell anymore, but sometimes they would bring things they made, sometimes drawings or carvings of places they were from. Never cities though. Lothor always found a buyer for them eventually, these curiosities were one of a kind after all. 

It became an unspoken agreement that the camp the other worlder’s made should be left alone, they would go to town when they needed. Only the Maesters of the Citadel would visit them, sometimes staying for days at a time. But rumor had it they were sharing secrets and shouldn’t be interrupted. 

For now the Citadel group was in town, sending some ravens to Old Town, and compiling their notes together. Five Maesters were in the group itself, each with an assistant to help them. 

They planned on sending some people back to the Citadel to deliver their notes, but deciding who would leave was difficult. Not one of them wanted to leave yet, the people were just starting to tell them more about the technical side of things. 

For months they had been having philosophical debates, a run around to avoid talking in specifics. They didn’t mind though, their cautiousness was respectable, given their situation. They had been through a war of their own, but were reluctant to give details of any kind. Sometimes they spoke of older things, that they had in common, but recent history seemed to haunt them. 

But the last few visits had been… different. Some of them truly loosing hope they would ever return. Something had them on edge, but it wasn’t clear what.

A new discussion began on the moral dilemma of explaining technology to people who haven’t created it themselves, how destructive giving weapons to people can be. When told not all technology is a weapon, they were told everything can be a weapon, to the wrong people. 

It was an interesting and promising back and forth. The most senior Maester there, Gerrad Stally, thought that this could mean actual explanations to how their machines work. An exciting breakthrough! They first had to sort out their paperwork, before getting back to visit them properly.  
Before that though, Lord Dustin had received another raven from the night’s watch, they were summoned to the keep at the top of the hill. 

There was another in the north, a lady of theirs, who had unnatural hair and supposed but unproved powers. They had been questioned about their knowledge of this lady, but they were as surprised as they were. A few days after, they received a raven of their own. 

From Maester Aemon himself, at Castle Black. It held more information about the lady herself, but less about her world than the raven Lord Dustin had gotten. She was asking for her people to receive her, wanting to make sure they survived and return home with them. Unable to travel due to her lack of vision. 

They certainly had a lot to talk about when they went back. Certainly, this is the reason four of them were missing. They had already headed north.  
It was unfortunate they didn’t tell them; they could have helped them. Maesters were respected throughout the seven kingdoms well enough, they could have hidden them if they wanted to be discrete.

Not only did they receive that news, they had received a message from Stannis Baratheon. It was tempting to open the letter to see what he wanted but, Maester Gerrad decided to respect their privacy. 

They ended up having two assistants go back to Old Town and sent for more Maesters to return. There was so much they could learn, a whole other world and history. It should be preserved somehow, this historic, impossible situation that has happened. 

They parted from the city that morning to visit the people in the woods.

* * *

“You should know Lord Bolton, that your presence isn’t welcome here. No true northern lord would welcome you after what you did to our King. And no southern declaration can change that.” Lord Dustin declared coldly. 

The nerve he had, requesting to be permitted into the city, to be welcomed as an honored guest, as Warden of the North. 

He had only a single small company of men with him it appeared. But still, Roose didn’t look perturbed in the least. Staying calm and continuing smoothly.

“Then it would be a shame if your keep burned to the ground. I’ve instructed my men that if they do not see me entering the city, to start with your home first.” Lord Bolton gaze was cold, and challenging. 

Lord Dustin knew what he was implying. His men were already in town, probably in a guise as a visitor they had so often now. Even though most of their buildings had been worked on over the years, to prevent fires from occurring, a deliberate flame would not protect them. He needed to find out who these men where. 

Their own forces had been sent south long ago, leaving the bare minimum to guard the city walls. Perhaps 50 were there now, with more able citizens that could fight if called upon. But their men were butchered at the red wedding, and so far, none yet had returned. 

Lord Dustin knew what this man was capable of. He had to think of the people of the city first and foremost. He begrudgingly let him enter, going back to the main hall to converse without the people hearing. 

The old keep was often changed and added to, since it wasn’t made of stone like most others were. It had sections with different styles of different ages past. A history carved in the wood itself. There was a small courtyard inside, where a weirwood tree grew. As long as it stood, they would have protection. Only two fires in history reached its walls, but the old gods favored them, and neither was that damaging.

The hall had a fireplace, lined in stone, which cackled warmly behind where lord Dustin sat, waiting for his unwelcome guest to get to his purpose here. Some other candles were lit, aiding the light in the room as the sun waned in the sky.

“Are you aware, Lord Dustin, that you have been harboring outlaws?” Bolton began.

Lord Dustin’s eyes narrowed, but he gave no response.

“These people you allow into your city, are an affront to nature. They don’t belong in the north, and they don’t belong in this world. They’re more dangerous than you know.” Lord Bolton continues, watching as the Lord he was speaking to frowned as if insulted.

“I would not allow them entry if they were dangerous. I’ve been assured by a group from the Citadel, and by the captain of these people, that they will not do us harm. They’ve been here for over a year and have kept that promise. Which makes them more honorable than _you_.” Lord Dustin sneers, still showing contempt openly. 

“I’m not here to debate my actions or justify myself to a lesser lord in the north. My legitimacy is not determined by you. But I assure you, I will not forget your words in the future.” He pauses meaningfully, letting the threat sink in, before continuing. 

“No. I’m here to find out, how much these people trust you. And which people they trust most in this city. It’s high time they’re taken care of.”

“… even if I wanted to help you, how could you think that’s a good idea? Have you not heard of the other one that’s at the wall? It’s the first time I’ve heard their numbers… if something happens to their people, how can you be sure they won’t attack us?”

“The woman is being taken care of. And I’ve been assured that they are stuck here. With no way for their people to locate them. They may claim to be trying to return, but they are not. They are simply biding their time.” 

“Then why would I help a traitor, who killed his own King?” Lord Dustin challenged.

“Because, Lord Dustin, you should really keep a better eye on your own daughter.” Lord Bolton explained.

The house Dustin men all started drawing their weapons, the Bolton men drawing theirs in response. Lord Dustin stood, looking alarmed. 

“It seems the threat of burning the city to the ground isn’t enough for you. I sent my men in ahead of me, and they found her unprotected. She has dark brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a plain grey dress. She was playing with the common children near the market square. My men have her with them. I did hope nothing would have to happen to her but, I get the impression you might need some persuading.” 

_This vicious fucker, how dare this man come here and do this? _Lord Dustin thought.__

__His daughter, his Annara, who resembled her mother so much, his last reminder of her. She often ran about the city, not bothering to have people with her. But why would she? This was her home, it had always been safe for her._ _

__Lord Dustin’s blood boiled in anger, but he was afraid as well. She was only twelve years old, but even at that young age he knew what men were capable of. And he knew this man in front of him, was not just words. Still the anger in him demanded he do something._ _

__“You fucking cunt. Give her back, and I won’t have my men slaughter you were you stand!”_ _

__“If they don’t see me before nightfall, I’ve given them leave to do as they pleased. You think you’ll have time to find her?” Lord Bolton challenged, not looking phased._ _

__Lord Dustin’s hand shook, fear and anger mixing inside of him. He looked down defeated, he couldn’t allow his daughter to be hurt. He signaled his men to put their weapons away._ _

__“So, Lord Dustin. You agree to help me, and make sure none of your own people are killed, and allow us to take care of unnatural people, who aren’t your own, and have allegiance to no one?” Lord Bolton asks for clarification, sounding condescending._ _

__“You must leave when after I give you the information you want. And return my daughter to me, unharmed.” Lord Dustin demands._ _

__“We’ll leave when _they_ are taken care of. And not before.” Lord Bolton responds firmly. _ _

__Lord Dustin sits slowly and pauses considering before continuing._ _

__“They aren’t close with my house, or the other lords here. They stay in the lower part of town, or the market. They trade with a merchant named Lothor. And stay at the inn by the east gate. Only three or four are here at a time, and never for long. Their camp it to the east, about a half days ride. The Maesters are the only people they allow to stay.”_ _

__Lord Bolton considers this carefully, and nods to himself. He already had an idea for a plan, this could work out for them._ _

__“What exactly are you planning on doing?” Lord Dustin asks, brows furrowed._ _

__“If you are able to get them all here at once, I’ll make sure you’re rewarded accordingly. That includes returning your daughter to you, unharmed.” Lord Bolton responds instead of explaining._ _

__By the way Lord Dustin was looking at him, it seemed he understood the idea. It made his skin crawl to think it would happen within his walls, but he had to think of his daughter. He would order his men to search the town tonight, to find her and make sure she was safe. Once she was back, he would expel this man from his city, he was clearly a disease._ _

__For now though… he would have to go along._ _

__He nodded once in response, staring daggers in the man’s back as he walked out of his hall. His hands fisted in anger._ _

__

__Lord Bolton had managed to lose the people following him easily enough. They really weren’t practiced in subtly here it seemed. When he entered the house his men had secured, he saw the girl bound in the corner. He gaze scared yet defiant._ _

__He didn’t even know her name. But it didn’t matter._ _

__“Lock her in room somewhere, she’s done her part.” He tells his men._ _

__Not long after, another man enters. He’s not in the Bolton’s attire but he quickly identifies himself. They had detained the Maesters on their way to the Other’s camp. But they didn’t want to draw suspicion, so they were being kept outside of the city._ _

__He’d have to find a way to get them inside then. But that was a problem for later._ _

__He wanted to find this merchant that Lord Dustin had mentioned. He could be useful._ _

* * *

__Captain Leonard didn’t go to town as often as some of the others, but he felt the need to go with the group this time. They were still in the inn but he wanted to check around. After hearing his crew tell him about the shift in perception from some of the higher-ranking members in the town, he was curious._ _

__Having Lord Dustin offer his own home up to all of them was even more so. In all the time they’ve been there, never had he offered them all to be welcome. It was the general understanding that only a few should be here at a time._ _

__Perhaps he should look for the Citadel group. They had mentioned potentially sending people back to gather more members and sending what they had back with someone was safer than transporting it another way._ _

__He hadn’t heard any other updates but, he felt that by now something should be known about the attack on their camp. If it was being kept secret, for whatever reason, why? Could it be used to turn people against them?_ _

__He thought he was being careful in avoiding that. It didn’t look like people here knew. Walking up to where he knew the Citadel members were staying, newcomers to the city were gawking. Whispering to other townsfolk he had met, wide eyed in disbelief._ _

__He understood, sort of. It was easier pretending to be a celebrity than in this alternate world. Not many had the courage to approach, but if they did it was always entertaining. Sometimes he winked at them to see them sputter about._ _

__Before he could reach his destination, he felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him away from the street. He turned quickly, hand going to his hip where he had a concealed weapon, but saw Lothor. He paused confused, but Lothor continued to guide him towards a side street._ _

__“What - ”_ _

__“The Bolton’s are here.” Lothor interrupts quickly, looking over his shoulder and speaking in a hushed voice._ _

__Leonard’s surprise was visible, as well as alarm. His gaze sharpened and he looked around slowly. He nodded for Lothor to continue._ _

__“They came to talk to me the other day, they wanted to get you all here in town, all at once. I think Lord Dustin knows but I’m not sure who else.” Lothor continues sounding urgent._ _

__Well that put things into perspective. Their first attack didn’t work, or was just a test of their defenses and capabilities, and so now it was on to plan b for them. Captain Leonard’s face darkened, they were in town, disguised or hiding, they might strike if they think he’s suspicious._ _

__Lothor was taking a risk even telling him this. He heard people approaching from behind him, he held a finger to his mouth for Lothor to see._ _

__“Good day, Captain.” Lord Dustin’s voice greeted him._ _

__He steeled his face before breaking out in a friendly smile and turns to greet the man._ _

__“Good day Lord Dustin. It’s nice to be back here, it’s been too long.” Leonard states warmly._ _

__Lord Dustin seems suspicious though, glancing at Lothor behind him. Well, he needed to do something about _that_._ _

__“I was just, thanking my good friend Lothor here. He’s been very welcoming to us, it’s almost like home now. Perhaps I’ll bring my crew into town and we should celebrate, to our friendship with Barrowton!” He says, smiling charmingly._ _

__Lord Dustin raises his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t thought it would be so easy… but they were close with Lothor, and if he did help as Lord Bolton believed, perhaps it was possible. He feels guilt, for allowing this to happen within his city. But they still had his daughter, his sweet and headstrong Annara. He had to do this for her, for his city and all the people in it. These people weren’t his. He had to protect his own._ _

__“For now though, I should rejoin my men. If you’ll excuse me my lord.” He states formally, the way the upper-class liked to be addressed._ _

__He turned to Lothor before he goes and gives a wink. “You’re a good man.” He claps him on the shoulder before leaving._ _

__He finds his men still at the inn, just ordered some drinks. So early in the day too… but no matter, they would be leaving. Right fucking now. But he couldn’t make it seem like it was urgent. Who knew who was watching. Even looking around the room carefully, he wasn’t sure who could be one of the Bolton’s men. There were many who stared at them anyway._ _

__“Sun’s getting low. Maybe we should get back home.” He says lowly when he sits by them._ _

__He sees them tense a bit, but continue their drinks, acting normally as possible. Only one gets up with him to get their things that they had already put upstairs. He gives him a curious look when they’re alone._ _

__“We’re getting the fuck outta here. Go get as much food and supplies as you can, I don’t know when we’ll be back. Meet me and the others by the east gate, got it?”  
He gets a quick nod, and he leaves quickly._ _

__Back at camp, he shared the news with everyone. Many wanted to go back, guns blazing and take them out. The city obviously wasn’t safe with those backstabbing murders there. And they wouldn’t be safe with them close by._ _

__Lothor could be in danger for telling him. Everyone had grown fond of the man, and his family since they’ve been there. But he couldn’t take the risk. If all went well, Laureen and Everett should have found out something about survivors in the north. Maybe they found people already. Maybe they found her. He had to wait, to measure their actions._ _

__As much as it pained him, he couldn’t afford to go back and protect the town, or Lothor. He had to think about his crew’s wellbeing first and foremost. If they caused too much ruckus, it could paint a target on Everett and Laureen’s backs._ _

__No, they were staying here, actively patrolling, and not leaving for the foreseeable future._ _

* * *

__Lord Bolton was not pleased, to say the least. He paced up and down in front of where Lord Dustin sat, surrounded by Bolton men. After the others had been in town a few times, after making sure he was keeping his word, they just stopped showing up._ _

__Someone had to have warned them. The Maester’s were being held as well, much to their chagrin. He had taken what they had on those people, but it wasn’t much at all. It was quite interesting to read the letter from Stannis Baratheon, however._ _

__It seemed that he wanted the Lady Rendell on his side, and the rest of her people to follow him. That wouldn’t do at all. He should tell the Lannister’s what Stannis is up to, and make sure the fallen people don’t find out they might have a powerful ally. Better that they feel alone._ _

__He had the guards around Lord Dustin killed when he walked in. The doors bared. His daughter was behind him, still bound in rope. His hands tensed on his chair, watching silently._ _

__“I thought we had a deal. I thought that you would help me, and your daughter and city would be spared a horrific death?” Lord Bolton says coldly._ _

__“I didn’t break the deal. I didn’t warn them or have anyone else warn them. Last I spoke with the Captain, he wanted to bring his crew here.” Lord Dustin responded stiffly._ _

__“Well,” Bolton scoffed, “What am I to make of this then? They’re suddenly clairvoyant? They’ve proven they aren’t.” He paces back and forth again._ _

__He stops and signals to his men. One pulls out a knife and walks towards Annara._ _

__“NO!”_ _

__His men hold Lord Dustin back, he yells at them to stop but Roose Bolton does not waver. He stares expectantly._ _

__“It had to have been Lothor, he was talking with the Captain alone! It had to have been him!”_ _

__Roose Bolton hold up a hand, just before he was about to slice the girl’s throat._ _

__“There’s still a way to get their trust, the Maesters are closer to them than anyone! You can use them, use them to get close and ambush them, if that’s what you want!” Lord Dustin continues desperately._ _

__Roose Bolton considers this. He had thought of using them to get the Others here, but they were proving to be tight lipped and hard to control. Perhaps now he didn’t have a choice. But with them at their own camp, with their own weapons and gods knows what else up their sleeve?_ _

__What he needed was a way of finding out what they had, and how to either replicate it, take it, or negate it. Numbers could work, his bastard Ramsey was taking Moat Calin for him after all, it was only a matter of time until his full forces could travel north. But now that they were guarded… he didn’t know what they were capable of._ _

__Perhaps the Maesters would be better as reconnaissance, that way they weren’t truly lying, but just doing what they’ve always done. Discovering new information.  
__

____

____

__He would visit them after the merchant in the market square. Perhaps they’ll be more receptive when they realize he’s not messing around. He couldn’t let this go unpunished either, and though he couldn’t just kill Lord Dustin, his hold on the north not secure enough to do that, he needed to send a message._ _

__“Cut off two of her fingers.” He tells the man next to Dustin’s daughter._ _

* * *

__Verona’s POV:_ _

__It hadn’t been that long since they left, but they were making good time. In the evenings I would try to ride by herself, with help from either Everett or Laureen guiding the horse for me. I was still tense, too tense and tipped to the side sometimes, but getting used to it at least._ _

__I couldn’t really see though, it was unnerving not being able to. Like flying was but even less to feel. But the horses were nice enough, I was worried they would try to throw me off when I was by herself, but they were both pretty chill._ _

__It didn’t hurt that I bribed them sometimes with scraps. Both Everett and Laureen had extra food with them all the time. They wouldn’t touch a certain portion, and hunt for dinner usually instead of eating it._ _

__It was something most people did in general, after the years of food shortages in recent memory. Being in the army was different though, it wasn’t allowed, all food was carefully monitored. But now that they were here, the added security of having food was reassuring, even to me._ _

__Maybe I would have been like that too, if I hadn’t spent years in a cell, or chained to operating tables. I was never in charge of my own food source… it didn’t serve me well out here, not knowing how to feed myself. Maybe I should ask them… but what would I even ask anyway, that’s ridiculous._ _

__We stopped at a tavern in a small town, one that Laureen had said they stopped at before. She suggested trying to find some hair dye for me… which was fine I guess, if they thought it would help them then it didn’t matter._ _

__I kept the hood up on her cloak, it was big enough it dropped in front of my face, but that was fine. I had heard some whispers, of people being creeped out by my eyes. Still, I wasn’t sure how much others could see, if my hair was visible or not._ _

__Both of my traveling companions are very cautions. And it wasn’t just because of me, though that was another thing I noticed. They went out of their way sometimes to avoid startling me, walking on eggshells almost. It was almost thoughtful, but just served as a reminder at this point. It wasn’t something I wanted to bring up though._ _

__They were still on edge around strangers, that much was clear. I can’t remember the last time I was really scared of someone though. What could people do to me really? Death didn’t seem like it was that bad an option at the worst times._ _

__And my drive to find people was pretty stilled right now, after all. I didn’t need to anymore. I just felt lost._ _

__I hadn’t gotten the nerve to try practicing yet, as they asked. I was afraid._ _

__Laureen was talking quietly to a man on the other side of the room, about hair dye. Apparently, it was something the brothel would have… He asked if they would stay the night, his offer still stood. Interesting, what offer? Laureen told him that they were undecided at the moment._ _

__Walking through the town further made it clear they were unwelcome. I couldn’t see the looks but judging from my companions growing unease and tenseness, they were probably being stared at. They decided not to stay the night…_ _

__There were light footsteps that seemed to follow them around town, but never close. They disappeared before they left though…_ _

__~_ _

__“You can’t be serious Verona. You’re mad at _me_? This son of a bitch tried to kill us!” Everett says loudly, gesturing at the man laying lifeless not five feet away. _ _

__They had set up camp for the night when Verona heard someone approaching. Someone that had been following them through the last small town they stopped at.  
__

____

____

__She tapped Laureen on the arm and pointed discreetly with her head. She heard Everett stand slowly and walk carefully to their bags. Not making a sudden movement._ _

__The man leapt out, sword in hand, lunging at Laureen who was closest, but was interrupted by a large banging sound._ _

__He fell, in shock, and held his leg. He tried to get away, scrambling back, started begging for mercy from them. He was terrified, and hungry, and was desperate enough to try his luck stealing from travelers with no weapons but the one crossbow, he went for her first._ _

__But another shot rang out, silencing the man. That’s when Verona started freaking out. Laureen backed away from her, telling her she needed to breath in a soft voice. She got a glare in return._ _

__Verona was offended at their treatment sometimes. She wasn’t going to _hurt_ them! She was allowed to be upset! It didn’t mean she would loose it though!_ _

__“He was scared, probably desperate and needed money or food! One man, coming after a group of three? He was hurt enough; you didn’t need to kill him!” Verona continued, sounding upset._ _

__“We couldn’t let him get away either. We were told not to let people here know about our guns.” Laureen pointed out._ _

__“Don’t hide behind your orders. You didn’t need to use it. The guy’s skin and bones, any one of us could have taken him with a knife, which I know you have! And what happened to getting swords and practicing? If you don’t want to use guns, fine, I get that. But you still rely on them!” Verona points out._ _

__“Oh give me a break. We haven’t been through a place big enough to have a blacksmith yet anyway.” Everett tells her, sounding exasperated but also not taking her seriously._ _

__“You shouldn’t have killed him. Gun or no gun. He was a fool and attacked, sure, but it was never going to work.” Verona still persists, causing Everett to scoff._ _

__“This is hostile territory Rendell. It isn’t like we could arrest him, or hand him over to the authorities. Even if we did they would probably do the same. It’s a harsh place we’re in. No one here would bat an eye at defending themselves.” Everett tells her._ _

__“It isn’t wartime anymore, its time to try something different. You really want to live the rest of your life like this? I don’t!” She looks troubled, her brows pinched in frustration. “If someone asks for mercy, can’t you at least let them speak? Figure out who they are? Can’t you consider letting him go, at least do that?”_ _

__“I wouldn’t think you would be so naive! You know what people are capable of. You can’t just let everyone go, he could have come back with more people, sent others after us, any number of things. We can’t take the risk.” He punctuates the last statement by pausing in between each word, trying to make her understand._ _

__“I don’t want to go back to that mentality, this _isn’t_ a warzone for us! I don’t want to forget myself, not again. I’m sick of this! I’m sick of people just accepting how things are, not trying anything different, just going along and thinking what you’re doing is justified. Maybe he was starving, trying to get food for his family, or maybe he was just insane. But you don’t know. He’s not a soldier we’re facing, he’s just a person. We can _listen_. If more people actually questioned what was going on, maybe we wouldn’t have become what we were.” _ _

__They were glaring at each other now, Everett gritting his teeth in frustration. He almost snapped at her to say stop with the ‘we’ shit. But maybe that was too far.__

____

____

__Everett scoffs and shakes his head angrily. “That’s bullshit, this isn’t about that. If Laureen had shot him in the head with her crossbow, you wouldn’t say a word. Because it was self-defense. Nothing wrong with that right? But let’s just go ahead with your plan then, as a hypothetical.” He starts to sound mocking now._ _

__“I shot him in the leg, he begs for his life, I spare him. He’s still bleeding out. Would you have him crawl away, to die in the woods? Would you have us help him? I’m not exactly a medic. Do we go back to the town we just went to? They didn’t want you there in the first place, how would they have reacted to seeing us bring them an injured man? Treat us nicely?”_ _

__Verona frowned, she hadn’t considered it honestly, the town they passed was unwelcoming. They probably wouldn’t react well to them returning. But was that enough of a reason to kill someone? Sure, it would be difficult, but they should have done something right?_ _

__“Maybe, we should have just disarmed him. Not immediately go in for the kill.” Verona offers, but still, that didn’t solve the whole, returning with more men scenario that could have happened._ _

__Everett still isn’t buying into what she’s saying though. Not looking at the overall point she’s trying to make. Thinking only in terms of immediate actions and repercussion, not the morality involved with those decisions. He hadn’t for a long time, it was easier that way._ _

__“We can’t go back to how it was before. Things aren’t what they used to be. _You_ can’t go back to how you used to be, no matter how self-righteous you want to act _now_.” Everett’s voice was icy now._ _

__Verona’s eyes widened, surprised and feeling hurt. She had done things, but it wasn’t her fault! She had made mistakes in the war but, she was trying to do the right thing, that’s what mattered right? And now, she’s trying to be someone better, someone she can live with being. And even now that’s still the wrong choice to him?_ _

__She turns and marches off, not wanting to hear anymore. She needed a place so sit and not think about anything for awhile._ _

__Laureen was watching the two with a frown, listening to their back and forth. Both not quite listening to the other. She frowns at Everett when he turns her way._ _

__“You shouldn’t have used the gun. I have my crossbow; I would have been fine. And it’s not like we have much ammunition. We shouldn’t waste it.” Laureen told Everett. “And she has a point. We should learn more about how to fight here. We could have tied him up till morning before letting him go.”_ _

__“And that’s what you would have done?” Everett asks incredulously._ _

__“No. But she’s clearly bothered by it. I’m willing to compromise.” Laureen tells him._ _

__She looks to where Verona disappeared and decided to go after her. She finds her sitting by the roots of a tree, arms wrapped around her knees. She doesn’t acknowledge her when she approaches. She crouches next to her, before speaking gently._ _

__“I know you feel betrayed and tricked because of what happened. You were trying to help but helped the wrong person. But maybe not having anyone die at all is a bit too extreme a stance to take? And this… it’s too much to expect from us. We’re soldiers. We were told to get you back safely if you were alive. We were told to keep our weapons a secret. That’s what we’re going to do. But… I can try to adapt. We won’t rely on our guns as much.” Laureen sighs before patting her shoulder and standing again._ _

__Rendell obviously had problems with what had happened before. Did she fully agree with her? No. Laureen couldn’t do that. She already knew she’d so whatever it took to get home. But she could respect the idea at least._ _

__Verona looks up a bit, showing she’s listening. She looks pensive, but still upset._ _

__“And Rendell… you can’t hold on to all of them. It’ll break you. Try to let some of it go.” Laureen said, sounding both exasperated and sad._ _

__Verona eventually returned to camp after being alone for the evening. They were all mostly silent the rest of the night. They took the body away from camp and burned him. Apparently, that was the only way to prevent them from turning, according to Verona._ _

__They were still expecting some sort of punchline, maybe Rendell was having a laugh. But no. This place was just filled with thing’s their people only imagined to be real. Like dragons. Apparently, there were bones and skulls, and rumors that across the sea there were three of them living. They were only whispers but, they were only whispered about too._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's having a rough time right now. Sorry about that. Everything is sort of at the same time, except for the Barrowton plot, that takes place before Verona leaves Castle Black. The end at Barrowton though, is about the time as everything else. 
> 
> More to come soon!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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